


The Disappearance of Heiwajima Shizuo

by Reindeer_enthusiast, TheCityCesspool



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2020-11-09 00:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20844290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reindeer_enthusiast/pseuds/Reindeer_enthusiast, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCityCesspool/pseuds/TheCityCesspool
Summary: ‘How did I end up in the situation…”It all started about eight months ago, when Ikebukoro experienced a calm it hadn’t in nearly 20 years...With the disappearance of the beast of Ikebukuro.





	1. Prologue

_ ‘How did I end up in this situation…” _

“...The working theory then was that children are attracted to their parents. But remember, Frued was a primary psychologist then, but in the present day, almost all of his theories are discredited, _ especially _ his ideas about child development.” 

_ ‘Count down from 100, no 1,000, no 10,000!” _

“That being said, there’s something to be said about some of his theories. Freud was one of the first to discuss the intricacies of the human mind. Overall, his ‘iceberg’ analogy for the subconscious mind is still a heavily used piece of imagery for the mind.”

_ ‘10,000, 9,999, 9,998, 9,997…’ _

“Humans are interesting in that way! There are layers that they’re not even aware of. Wants and desires, just beneath the surface, chirping in the background but not reachable. Not without a push, that is.”

_ ‘9,986...wait that’s not right...Shit this is too hard! Something else, something else!’ _

“A push from someone who has an understanding about their behaviors and a fascination with the way those behaviors chain react. But I’m digressing again. So the working theory of the time was that children are attracted to their parents, sexually. The Oedipus complex, born from Greek mythology, was really just that of a perverted, cocaine addicted man with enough friends in his social circle, with their own perverse thoughts of their children, as social standards and morals weren’t _ quite _the same back then-”

_ ‘A scenic beach...blue water...and...fish I guess. Shit this isn’t working either!’ _

“-All decided that this was a good enough theory to explain their young, overly controlled daughters outbursts and hysterics, while projecting their own maladaptive thoughts onto their children to justify something they knew to be wrong, but didn’t want to quite give up-”

_ ‘How long is he going to fucking talk for, I can’t- get it together, get it together….focus…’ _

“-Shizu-chan, you’re not listening again.” Izaya snaps his fingers in front of the other’s face, causing a jump from the latter.

“Ah, yeah I stopped listening a little while ago,” Shizuo admits, before taking another loud sip from his soda.

“Ahhh,” Izaya whines. “Figures as much. I’m kind enough to educate a neanderthal and you don’t even have the courtesy to listen. Well, don’t worry, I remember almost everything I’ve said! I’ll start over. I’ll even try to get the inflection the same so it will be like you didn’t miss anything. Oh, do you know what the word ‘inflection’ means? It’s the way that a person’s voice-”

_ ‘How did I end up in the situation…” _

_ It all started about eight months ago, when Ikebukoro experienced a calm it hadn’t in nearly 20 years...With the disappearance of the beast of Ikebukuro. _


	2. Chapter 2

A soft autumn glow covered the city, the sunset creating an orange haze through the bustling streets. Illuminations of electronic billboards and flashing advertisements competed against the gentle rustle of orange and yellow leaves and quiet whisper of an October breeze. 

The city of abnormality has been quiet. For many of its residents, this quiet was unknown, filled with an almost tense calm. The vending machines have been left untouched, some dared to gather dust on the tops where most cannot reach. Guard rails and stop signs rested where they were placed. City councilman reviewed their construction budgets with shock after realizing they have not had to rebuild a ruined sidewalk or replace a park bench that was ripped from it’s mounted place since early in the year.

** _‘There’s really been no sign of him? I wonder what’s happened’_ **

**_‘What does it mean when a scary guy like that goes missing? What if something even _scarier _got him? How frightening!”_**

** _‘The Beast of Ikebukuro has been missing!”_ **

Mikado scrolled down through various emails and messages. The infamous blonde haired debt collector hasn’t been seen for months now. The streets of Ikebukuro have experienced a calm that it hasn’t in nearly 20 years. 

_ ‘I wonder what’s happened...I hope he’s alright.’ _the high school thought to himself. The anxiety over the man with a hair-trigger temper never quite left Mikado since moving from his quiet home life to the city where abnormal things are normal. The idea of an abnormal celebrity disappearing without a trace left an uneasy feeling, and most weren’t sure how long they could comfortably enjoy the quiet without a touch of excitement.

The roar of a motorcycle accompanied by the whinnie of a horse soars passed the high schooler. Only the blur of a yellow helmet is noticed. Celty rides along the busy streets of the city, weaving between cars and trucks alike, until she returns to her apartment. 

“Celty, my love~! Welcome home!” Shinra exclaims at the sound of the door opening.

_ Taptaptap _

‘Thank you Shinra.’

“How was your day?”

_ Taptaptap _

_ ‘ _ Not bad overall.’ _ Taptaptap _‘Though any day I have to deal with Izaya isn’t exactly my favorite.’

“Ahh, true...Oh, speaking of which, have you heard from Shizuo at all? It’s been a lot longer than I expected.”

_ Taptaptap _

‘Nothing yet...I hope he’s alright.’

“Ahh, nothing to be worried about love! This is Shizuo we’re talking about here. Now come, come, I’ve made dinner.” Shinra presents the Dullahan with an assortment of homemade sushi. Shinra excitedly explains what each one is to the other, before expressing his desire to be a stay-at-home-husband. “I would make a good house hubby, wouldn’t I? Ahh but then I would miss out on you in an apron as a housewife…”

The city streets of Ikebukuro carried on. Leaves fell, schools prepared for festivals, cars passed, otakus read manga. Life went on as normal in a place where normal did not exist.

** _‘The Beast of Ikebukuro has been missing!”_ **

** _‘Is Heiwajima Shizuo really dead?’_ **

** _‘I heard that he lost a fight and is in some hospital somewhere!”_ **

The information broker taps his fingers impatiently on the edge of his laptop. 

“Where do beasts hide?”

Namie tapped away at her own laptop. “Is that a riddle?” She asked without removing her eyes from the screen.

“It is, a bit. Where does a beast who sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes, go to hide?”

“I don’t know, where?”

Izaya twirled his chair, a full rotation before catching himself on his desk and returning to his laptop. “I wish I knew.” Namie sighed at the antic. Izaya twirled his chair again, stopping this time at the glass wall that separated him from the outside world. “Over seven months, and not a single person in Ikebukuro has a single clue where he’s run off to. None of my contacts, online resources, forums, chats, nothing. I hope he hasn’t gone off and died somewhere. It wouldn’t be any fun for me if he died of natural causes or something equally anti-climatic.” 

“Surely you have better things to do than gripe over this.”

A scowl crossed the information broker’s expression. Izaya gazed out the window, as though from this height, he could scan over all of Tokyo and locate the former bartender. After a long pause, he pushed his desk chair back to face his desk, though kept an eye on the window for a moment longer. 

“It wouldn’t be any fun for me, that’s all.”

\---

On a quiet street, a taxi pulls up to an apartment complex. A figure in a black hoodie emerges from the vehicle, blond hair just barely sticking out from the fabric. A cigarette is lit, barely illuminating off of sunglasses.

_ Ikebukuro feared its calm has ended, and the storm clouds were returning. _

_ But was it? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hi, thank you for reading until the end, I really appreciate it. So I've changed the tags slightly, as I've decided somewhat where I want this to go. I've decided if I'm going to be a 24yr old writing their first fanfiction, I'm gonna go all out self-indulgent and make it a shizaya story after all. If youre not into that, I thank you for giving it a shot anyway, and hope we part ways as friends. If you are, I hope you'll stick around. Next chapter should be up by 10/4/19.  
Peace


	3. Chapter 3

_ ‘As my name implies, my desire is to live a peaceful and quiet life…’ _

\---

A bullet train, to a normal train, to a taxi. 2 hours of sitting, 1 hour of pacing the train station, 3 more hours of sitting, 6 minutes to stretch before another 45 minutes of more sitting. Shizuo fidgets in the back seat of the vehicle, his body fatigued from nothing, his spine cracking along with each movement.  _ ‘I’m only 24, why does my back hurt like I’m 90...then again, I’m not exactly in the best condition…’ _

The sight of the unruly apartment complex Shizuo rents from couldn’t have been a more welcoming sight to the weary traveler, though previous anxieties also rejoined him. Shizuo pulled the hood of his new black hoodie up above his head, in some kind of hope of delaying his neighbors from realizing he’s returned.

Stepping out from the cab, Shizuo lights a long awaited cigarette, the glow illuminating off of his sunglasses. Looking to the sunset in the distance, Shizuo takes a moment to enjoy the cool autumn air before gathering his bags, one that’s held together with duct tape and a bungee cord, and makes his way into the complex.

Upon reaching his apartment, Shizuo’s first anxiety was quelmed when he didn’t come to find an eviction notice posted to his door. Though he had paid in advance, Shizuo couldn’t imagine how desperately the complex would have liked to take advantage of his absence. He enters the long abandoned apartment to be greeted with the mess he had left for himself. Brushing past the dust covered furniture, Shizuo examined the studio apartment. A single mattress on the floor, an old television on top of a dented and damaged dresser, broken metal cups, plates, filled ashtrays, garbage and the like. There were more holes than there were walls. The only thing that was well cared for was a poster of Kasuka’s first movie, autographed in the corner.  _ “In case you lose your job again, and need some cash, you can sell this” Kasuka had advised _ . 

Shizuo sighed.  _ ‘Step one…’make home a welcoming place’’  _ he recited to himself. Placing his luggage down, he made careful work of unpacking his new belongings, as well as giving his previous belongings some much needed care. Garbage was collected and disposed of, laundry placed into the hamper, the few valuable knick knacks cleaned off.

Finally satisfied with his surroundings, at least for the evening, Shizuo decided to settle in. Placing a blanket on the center of the hardwood floor, Shizuo plopped himself down cross-legged. First rolling his shoulders to release some tension, Shizuo consciously took a deep breath. Settling into the comfort of the quiet, the distant noises of other residents, the occasional creek or snap of the infrastructure, Shizuo closed his eyes and focused on breathing. Not changing it, simply noticing. His breathing naturally evened out as he reached a peaceful state of mind. Thoughts and worries were quickly dismissed, as for this one moment, there is only this peaceful, quiet life tha-

_ KnockKnockKnockKnockKnock _

The blonde flinched at the sudden break from his peaceful, trance-like state, only to feel the vein in his temple throb. He massaged his temples briefly before taking another deep breath. As he rose, he mentally prepared himself for his reaction to a door-to-door salesman interrupting him at this hour, wondering if simply slamming the door shut would be enough. Shizuo gave himself one more moment before opening the door. 

“Shizuoooo!” Fluffy brown hair and glasses bounced, bounced,  _ pounced _ onto said person. Shizuo blinked once, then twice before he even processed the greeting. Shizuo looked down at the underground doctor latched around him. 

“Shinra. Hey.”

“Welcome home, Shizuo!”

_ Taptaptap.  _

‘We wanted to be the first to welcome you back to Ikebukuro!’ Celty held her phone for him to read over Shinra’s head. 

“Ah that was...really nice of you actually.” Shizuo attempted to free himself from the affectionate brunette, though not with much success. “You guys can come in ya know, you don’t have to hang out in the hallway.” 

Celty managed to pry Shinra off of his friend for long enough for them to join the blonde in his apartment. Shinra spent a moment looking over the studio. “I, uh...just realized we’ve never been to your place before.”

“Yeah, there’s not really much to see…” Shizuo made his way to the small kitchenette area. “And, uh, I’m not really the best host. I don’t really have much right now, I don’t think I have tea or coffee to offer...just milk” he noted after opening the fridge.

“You went to the store just for milk?

“What? No, I spent like 6 hours traveling, and came straight here…”

“...How old is that milk?”

Shizuo swished the carton, greeted by the sound of a sludge-like  _ swash. _ “...Old.” He replied, before dropping it in the garbage bin. 

“That’s okay! We don’t need anything, right Celty? We just wanted to come and see how you were doing, after being gone for so long and all.” _Shinra’s bright personality might make him annoying, but he’s a good guest to have_, Shizuo thought. 

The three sat on some floor pillows Shizuo had and caught up for a bit. 

“You were gone for a lot longer than we expected, we were starting to get worried.”

“Ah, yeah sorry about that. The cell service sucked so I could barely send a text, not that I’m too good with that anyway.” 

“And you’ve got so many books now!” Shinra noted, scanning along the titles of the nearest stack. Scattered around the room sat three or four piles of books, each with at least 6 books in it. The titles all had similar themes, meditation, philosophy, different religious and moral self-help titles. Shinra hoped that his expression didn’t give away not only his surprise that Shizuo had these, but the idea of him actually reading even one of them.

“Yeah, a, uh, big part of it was  _ learning _ ...not really my strong suit. They made me take notes on everything I read to make sure I was actually getting something from it.” 

Shinra grabbed a book at random, and began flipping through it. True to his word, every few pages had pieces of loose leaf, sticky notes, scraps of paper with messy scrawled writings. Some writings were just quotes from that page, others had a one-sentence thought or so. Shinra stopped on one page, in which the “note” was a stick-figure drawing with just enough detail for him to discern that it was a doodle of Shizuo swatting the infamous information broker, Orihara Izaya, with a stop sign. 

“That one was from...early on. Wasn’t going too well at first.” Shizuo explained.

Shinra merely chuckled. “Well, hey, it’s getting a bit late and I’m sure you’re tired. Why don’t Celty and I let you get some rest, and you come by tomorrow night for dinner? We can finish catching up and, the best part, I can exercise some newly developed house-husband skills! I’m an excellent cook, and I clean and everything! Right Celty?” 

Shizuo’s expression could only be described as that of a concerned friend, wondering if the dullahan is starving to death. 

_ Taptaptap _

‘He’s actually not too bad, I swear.’

Shizuo nodded with understanding. “I’ll take your word for it.” 

Shinra whined at the mundane answer Celty provided, but let her be. The couple wished Shizuo a good night before he saw the couple out. A glance at the clock was enough for Shizuo to first grovel over the idea of losing “alone time,” before he cursed himself for being ungrateful. Shizuo made a mental note of reframing his thought, that his friends were  _ kind enough  _ to stop by, even though it was late. Shizuo nodded, satisfied. A second glance at the clock, enough for Shizuo to decide that tomorrow’s another day.

The moment Shizuo’s head hit the pillow, the day’s travelling and exhaustion hit him at once. 

The beast of Ikebukuro was home, and resting peacefully, at least for tonight.

\---

_ ‘As my name implies, my desire is to live a peaceful life…’ _

No alarm, no schedule, nowhere to be. Shizuo woke peacefully, to a quiet morning, with an idea of what he wanted, but no real demand. ‘ _ Go at your own pace’  _ he mentally recited. A morning of stretching, list writing, and a few too many smokes, before Shizuo decided that the pace for today would be a productive one. 

Shizuo reviewed his impromptu “To do list,” comprising primarily of some chores that he would finish before he joined Shinra and Celty for dinner. ‘_Today’s focus should probably be on making the apartment nicer...Which means I should probably learn how to fix drywall.’ _Shizuo thought, looking around at the hole adorned walls that encompassed his apartment. Scratching his head, Shizuo paused for a moment before realizing that this was probably one of those essential, how-to-be-a-real-adult skills that he never quite learned, and wasn’t even sure how to start. The idea of wandering around a home improvement store would likely result in more embarrassment than he could handle right now, and Shizuo knew himself well enough to know that he’s not handy enough with household projects or the Internet to learn from watching videos. Before the irritation became too much, Shizuo took his list again, and stared as though the sliver of paper would be kind enough to show him. _‘No...but who do I know that is capable of showing me…’ _Shizuo thought over the short list of friends he had. _“Kasuka probably wouldn’t know and he’s probably too busy, Shinra’s not exactly capable himself,_ _Celty might know, but she’s probably busy too…’_

“...Tom-san!” Shizuo blurted out, before all but lurching to his cell phone. 

\---

The door to the apartment opened to a friendly face.

“Yo, Shizuo! Good to see you again man. How was everything?”

“Pretty good. Thank you again for agreeing to help me. I’m sorry if I caused you any inconvenience.”

“Nah, anytime, anytime. Just glad I’m free today, company’s got us all working overtime since you left, not many people strike the same amount of fear as you do.” Tom teased, though he quickly sensed the tense change in his former junior. “But don’t sweat it man! We’ve got this new chick, she’s actually a lot like you, I’ve gotta introduce you. Simon had her working at Russian Sushi for a while but she’s got an attitude so they asked if we’d take her. Kicks ass though, martial arts and stuff. Pretty hot too, I’ve been trying to get her to open up to me for months now, but she’s stone cold.”

Shizuo nodded, and invited his senior in. 

“So you said you have a few holes you need to have patched up, shouldn’t be too ba-” Tom suddenly cut himself off, looking around the studio apartment. “...Shizuo?”

“Hm?”

“What the fuck, dude.”

“Ah, is it that bad?”

“ _ Is it that bad? You’ve got more holes than you do wall!” _

“Oh...it’s better than my old place so I guess I just thought it wasn’t too bad.”

Tom paled. “How bad was the last place that  _ this  _ is ‘not too bad?’”

Shizuo’s head tilted to the side while he thought it over. A few too many moments passed. 

“...Just tell me...Did you leave anything standing?”

“Some. I was pretty much offered to terminate my lease early, and in return they wouldn’t press charges. I’ve been more careful here, mostly ‘cause I don’t wanna go back to living with my parents or Kasuka. Took a while to save though, since I had to pay triple security…”

“Triple? Is that legal?”

“Probably not, but then again, not too many places are willing to rent to someone with the nickname ‘beast of Ikebukuro’ with a reputation for throwing vending machines.”

“Ah, yeah, but still I feel like you could fight that.”

“Do I look like someone who knows how to read a contract?”

“Fair...Alright, let’s just...get started then.” 

Tom set to showing Shizuo the basics of home repair. After setting the tarp and materials, Tom went over the basic steps, movements and tricks to patching a hole. 

“So the key here is, you slab the mud onto the wall, and, with a bit of arm strength, you just  _ pr-esssss _ it on and down.” Tom explained as he demonstrated, pushing the mixture of white clay-like material from the spackling knife onto the wall, down and over the hole. “Here, give it a shot.”

Shizuo took the spackle knife from his senior, and did his best to mimic the movements. As he pushed the material down the wall, it seemed to stop shorter than when Tom did it, only covering the first few inches. 

“Ahh, spackling takes a bit of strength. You ever seen guys that do this for a living? They’ve always got these huge arms, but nothing else.” Shizuo hesitated. “Oh, uh...I know this might be a bit difficult for you to gauge. Just do what you did, but only a  _ little  _ bit more. It’s okay to go lighter, we can always fix it. Spackle’s kinda forgiving that way.”

“Thank you, but you don’t need to worry about me so much. I got better at knowing my own strength while I was away. I’m just not used to fixing my own messes is all. Feels…weird. But good.”

“Ah, good, good! Go on then, give it another shot.”

Shizuo reloaded his spackling knife, placed it to the wall, and concentrated on applying just a bit of pressure, just a bit more, concentrate...

_ Crack.  _

“Ah?” Shizuo blinked, and pulled his hand back, examining it. Tom looked through the newly formed hole, broken through to the  _ outer  _ wall, from where the city could now been seen.

“‘Learned your own strength’ huh?”

“...Guess not.” Both looked out the new fist sized window that lived a foot off the floor. “We can patch this too, right?”

“I think your complex has to fix it at this point…”

“...Guess I’m not getting all three deposits back.”

“Be grateful to get any.”

Shizuo hung his head and sighed. 

“It’s gonna be a long day.”

\---

Tom helped Shizuo patch up as many of the smaller holes as possible, but after about two hours, the two agreed that it might be a losing battle. Not willing to let Shizuo fall right back into a triggering anger trap, Tom offered to help Shizuo go over his lease and how to let his complex know the..extent to the damage, and even offered to pull some strings to get Shizuo a deal if need be. The blonde shook his head, but thanked his former boss for his assistance, grateful to have gotten even a portion of the room repaired, albeit some additional damage was made in the process. Tom apologized but told Shizuo he would have to be going, as he had somewhere to be tonight, and “spackle’s easy to get off of clothes, but only if it’s still wet” so he hurried off, leaving the former bartender to his “to do list.”

_ ‘Next on the list...job searching.’  _ Admittedly not an area Shizuo was looking forward to. A deep sigh, before massage the often throbbing vein in his temple. Where to even start… Circulars, newspapers, flyers and the like spread across the table and floor of the apartment, an old hand-me-up-from-Kusuka laptop open on the floor beside him, red pen in hand, Shizuo dug into anything that even remotely sounded plausible. 

Circle here, cross out here, cross out, cross out, circle, click click no wait, delete, how do you, okay, maybe forget the laptop for now, circle, cross out, cross out...

Three. After an hour long ordeal, of reviewing the criteria for every posting he could find, Shizuo settled on three “maybes.”  Three “maybe I’m qualified,” “maybe I won’t get pissed off at this job,” “maybe this will help me live a peaceful life.”

Now all he had to do was leave the safety and quiet of his apartment.

What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *finger guns* Ya know I'm like the same age as Shizuo, Izaya and Shinra? Wild. Absolutely wild. When I first watching this show, I was in middle school and thought these three were adults. I'm learning otherwise. 24 is not adult, kids, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.  
It's 4 in the morning and I could not sleep, enjoy a new chapter. They're gonna keep getting longer hopefully.   
I'm doing my best. Also, the bit with Tom is almost word for word my dad and me this past weekend.   
Thanks


	4. Chapter 4

Shizuo paced the aisle, trying to find the difference between any of the hundred of different boxes.  _ ‘Why...are there so many options? I thought brown was just brown…’ _ Shizuo was beginning to think bleaching his hair every few weeks may actually be easier than finding which specific shade of brown hair dye would match properly with his natural hair. While pacing back and forth, Shizuo happened to catch a glimpse of his reflection in a metal bottle on a neighboring shelf. Pulling at his hair, Shizuo tried to find enough brown to compare. 

“Do...you need help finding anything?”

Shizuo turned his attention to the store clerk, a petite woman with a soft spoken voice. 

“Oh, um, yeah, actually. I think I’ve been blonde for about 8 years now, and have no idea what color my hair actually is.”

“Oh, okay. I can try to help.” Shizuo thanked her, before awkwardly leaning down, bending as low as his ever-cracking back would allow. The clerk poked through his hair for a moment before quietly humming to herself. After a moment of consideration, she pulled a box off of shelf for him. “This one.” 

“...Are you sure? I feel like my hair didn’t used to be this dark...I’m not gonna look like some edgy teenager again, am I?”

“As we get older, our hair changes, especially if you start bleaching it young. I think this one’s the closest, but the dye usually comes out lighter than the box makes it look like it will.”

“Hope so. Thanks for your help.” 

The clerk smiled and bowed to him before scurrying off. 

After checking out, Shizuo scribbled a line through another item on his to-do list. “Alright, food shopping’s done, I’ve got hair dye for later, now what…” 

Job search. Shizuo tilts his head to the side and sighed. “Maybe just home for now…” Groceries in tow, Shizuo pulled the hood tighter around him. The blond hair he coveted for nearly a decade now acted as more of a target than a deterrent. Shizuo recalled Tom’s early advice to him, encouraging him to stick out intentionally, so that those who know his temper will know who to stay away from. The plan had worked for a bit, but the more his reputation spread, the more the brave, bold and stupid approached him, looking to pick a fight. 

_ ‘If I’ve got any hope of living a quiet life, I’m gonna have to blend in.' _

Head held down, Shizuo walked back to his apartment as fast as he could without brushing shoulders with too many other people. Watching the ground more than the people in front of him, Shizuo hardly noticed a bystander stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk until  _ CRASH.  _ The blonde is bounced back, bags of groceries tearing and spilling onto the pavement. The bystander, a young tough looking kid with a colored bandana, was knocked back from the collision. The stranger immediately barked out a “Watch where you’re going, old man!” as he bounced back to his feet. Shizuo was slower to get up, groaning at both the comment of “old man” and the fact that it didn’t feel too far off while he brought himself back to his feet. 

A city like Ikebukuro doesn’t slow down, doesn’t stop, and certainly doesn’t lack excitement for anyone. While Shizuo recollected what could be salvaged from his shopping, he hasn’t noticed his hood falling back. Blonde hair garnered the attention of a bystander or two…

And the very punks that Shizuo was hoping to start avoiding, always find their way back to him.

“Is that-”

“Whoa, no way-”

“-I thought he was dead?”

“Scary~!”

“Huh?” Shizuo, dense as ever, didn’t notice the crowd gathering around him until he was completely surrounded. Pictures snapped, gossiping whispers and gasps and the like. “This...can’t be good.” 

Shizuo stood upright and looked around the circle that’s formed around him, scowling, looking for an opening, any opportunity to get out. The crowd stayed put, keeping Shizuo trapped, until the first dimwit decided to try his luck. From the looks of it, a wanna-be gang member, someone who uses the “Dollars” name as an excuse to do whatever. 

“...Something I can help you with?” 

"Yo man! You're that guy, aren't you?

"You might need to be a bit more specific."

"Something-or-other Shizuo, the toughest guy in Ikebukuro."

"Yeah, I don't really think that's a surname. And if you're looking for a fight, I'm not really in the mood, so kindly piss off."

The punk decided that wasn't going to happen.  _ 'okay...I prepared for this.' _ As a loosely formed fist swung towards him, Shizuo took a deep breath, and took a careful step to the side. Grace was not something that came to him naturally, but through intentional practice, could be emulated. Frustrated, another swing, and then another. Shizuo watched not his opponent's arms but his feet, his positioning. Based on that, Shizuo tried to predict when his strikes would come, which direction to evade in. Step back, side step, the two danced in circles from within the crowd. Shizuo cautiously peered to the crowd, staging his escape. Side step, side step, duck and back out.  _ 'I need a way out...some kind of distraction.' _

In a moment of fate, the sound of a horse whinnying, the roar of a motorcycle, and the attention from the crowd temporarily

_ 'Celty. Man do I owe you one…' _

Taking the brief moment of distraction, Shizuo ducked quickly, grabbed as many of his groceries as he could, and bolted through the crowd, sprinting down the city streets. Shizuo mentally scolded himself for the ordeal even happening, and for running.  _ 'I can't always run from these kinds of things...but today's not the day to try my luck.'  _ Shizuo sprinted in the direction of a quieter section of the city, until he felt his body couldn't handle it. Shizuo rested against the side of a building, trying to catch his breath after sprinting more than he had in half a year. “Can I really be this out of shape already?” He wondered aloud. A few more moments passed before Shizuo decided he was ready to set out again. A slight push off of the brick building and he made to head out until a sign in the window caught his attention.

“Help Wanted:

Bartender”

A head tilt as he read over the sign, Shizuo peeked in through the window to a simple set bar, nothing too flashy like his past job at the West Gate, but not some dive bar either. Decor seemed to be primarily made up of vintage signs and plaques encouraging spending time drinking with loved ones. The crowd, or lack thereof, seeing as it was one in the afternoon, seemed to primarily consisted of younger folk, without too many of the  _ overly young _ hipster-esque crowd. 

The more Shizuo considered it, the more he realized that bartending really was one of the few jobs that he wasn’t too bad at, and didn’t completely hate, even if he wasn’t keen on alcohol himself. And the more time he spent staring into the window, the more he felt that the environment might just be one he could handle. 

_ ‘When opportunities occur...Take them.’ _

Dropping his groceries onto the sidewalk, Shizuo pulled the black hoodie over his head and dropped it onto the pile of his other belongings.  _ ‘Probably doesn’t hurt to already have the uniform…’ _ A deep breath, then one more. Shizuo straightened his vest, straightened his back, and entered the bar. Shizuo approached the bar with his head held high but nerves on edge. 

“Hi there. What can I get for ya?” The bartender on shift was an attractive young woman, probably around Shizuo’s age or younger, with shoulder length brown hair and a friendly smile. 

All sense of false bravery immediately dissipated. “Uhm, hi, uh, I…” Shizuo meekly pointed a finger towards the window of the bar. “The sign you have out front…”

A pause, and then a laugh from the woman. “Our sign? Not exactly one of our happy hour specials, ya know.”

Embarrassed, panic began to set in. “The sign, are you still looking for a bartender?” Realizing he was likely being rude, Shizuo bowed towards her, body tense. “My name is Heiwajima Shizuo, I have about a year of bartending experience, although it was a few years ago. I was very good at it though! I only stopped because I was, uh, well I was wrongly arrested but charges were cleared! I’ve had some periods of unemployment, but I have a strong work ethic, I’m never late, and I can double as a bouncer if needed! Despite rumors about me, I am not a bad person...I hope you will consider me as a candidate.” Shizuo straightened back up, only to find the woman standing with her hands half held up defensively and an uncomfortable look on her face. 

_ ‘I fucked up again...Damn.’ _

“I’m...sorry. I’m wasting your time.”

“No, no, it’s not that! It’s just...I’m not the hiring manager.”

“...Oh.”

“But that was...a pretty decent speech! Listen, just, um, let me go get my manager. Stay right here.” 

Surprised, Shizuo blinked, watching as she quickly made her way to a door towards the back of the establishment. Only a few moments passed before the bartender returned with an older woman in tow. As the approach, Shizuo could hear the younger woman reciting some of what he had said to who Shizuo could assume was the manager. 

“Alright, alright, now get back to work.” The older woman instructed before turning her attention to the blonde. “My employee here says you’re here to pitch your case?”

“Ah, yes ma’am!” Shizuo bowed to her, as he had with the younger woman. “My name is Heiwaj-”

“I know who you are.”

“...Then hopefully...you know I have experience?”

“Listen kid, I don’t know if we can quite handle someone with your reputation here. We’ve got a quiet establishment here.”

“That’s all I could want.” Shizuo replied, more to himself than to her.

She sighed. “Listen, did you put in an application?” 

Shizuo straighten up and looked to her. “Ah, no, I haven’t, I only just saw the sign outside and came in. I can fill one out now though.” From the inside pocket of his vest, Shizuo produced a pen.

The woman laughed. “Haven’t had paper applications in almost two years. Everything’s online these days. Just fill out the application online and we’ll see. Shouldn’t be too hard for someone your age.”

“...Online?”

“Hm, good luck. Maybe you’ll hear from me. Now if you’ll excuse me,” the woman nodded to Shizuo before returning to her office. 

Feeling defeated, Shizuo slumped onto one of the bar stools, back against the bar. 

“I thought it was a pretty good spiel” From the corner of his eye, Shizuo looked to the bartender beside him. With her arm propped against the bar and her chin in her hand, she continued. “Pretty ballsy of you to just come in and try your luck. Respect.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“I’m rooting for ya.”

“Thanks, but I doubt I’ll be getting it if I have to do it all online. I can barely  _ find  _ online applications, let alone fill them out.”

“What are you, like 35? You’re not that old th-”

“I’m 24.”

“Yikes, my bad.”

“Happens a lot.” From his pants pocket, Shizuo pulled out his cigarette box, took one out and lit it. “Don’t know what I’m gonna do now, though…” Shizuo muttered to himself. Mentally mapping out the homescreen of the laptop his brother gave him, Shizuo tried to imagine how to go about searching for this specific listing, only before realizing he doesn’t have an updated resume anyway. Shizuo slumped deeper in his seat and wallowed in self pity for a few moments longer, until a gentle poke to his shoulder gained his attention. The bartender poked her head over the bar and waved for him to turn around. Shizuo turned halfway towards her, enough that he could see her holding a laptop just beneath the bar. He tilted his head in confusion.

“Listen...I’ve got a good feeling about this. So how about you fill it out here? You can borrow my school laptop, and if you need anything, you can just call me over.”

“I...That’s really nice of you. But won’t I be imposing if you have to stop working just to help me?”

“We don’t get busy for another five hours normally. So, as long as it doesn’t take you five hours to fill it out, you should be fine.”

Shizuo spun the chair around to face her fully. “Not to sound ungrateful but...what are you getting out of this?”

“A bouncer.”

“Huh?”

“You did promise to double as a bouncer if needed. This bar is run by four women, and while we can all handle ourselves pretty damn well, you don’t know how often I wished we had a dude who looked like you behind the bar with us. I’m not saying we need a guy to protect us, it’s just guys typically don’t respect what a woman has to say,  _ especially  _ when drunk. So, consider it an even trade?”

Anxiety skyrocketing, Shizuo had nearly forgotten that aspect of the job. Watching scumbag after scumbag harass and antagonize women, it pissed him off.  _ ‘What...will happen in that situation… _ ’

The bartender lowered herself to catch Shizuo’s attention again. “Hey, listen, it doesn’t happen often, just often enough that I wish I had a little back up, ya know?”

“...Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m Haruki, by the way.”

“Shizuo.”

“Yeah, you mentioned.” She laughed. “Now, come sit down at the end, I’ll get you set up.” 

Shizuo nodded and stood, before a thought occurred to him. “Shit, hang on, I left all my stuff outside!” Shizuo sprinted to the door to collect his groceries, wondering now why he thoughtlessly left everything on the sidewalk in the first place.

“Weird fucking guy…” Haruki laughed. “Man, I hope he gets it. This place might finally be interesting.

\--

Four hours. It took Shizuo four hours to complete the application, even with Haruki’s help. Every now and then, between customers, she would pop over and check in on him. 

“Your first problem is you literally type worse than my grandfather.”

“I’m afraid of breaking your laptop, leave me alone.”

“You type with one finger at a time.”

“And I only know, like, 20 words, it evens out.” 

“It does not apparently.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“You’re still on demographic information? There’s like ten more parts to this.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“What high school did you  _ go  _ to?”

“Raira.”

She sunk lower onto the bar. “How? How did you manage?”

“Handwritten tests.”

“I’m not going to lie to you, you don’t look capable of that either.”

“Don’t you have work to be doing?”

Haruki feigned being offended, placing her hand over her heart. “The things I’ve done for you, Heiwajima-san, and this is the thanks I get.”

“You better hope we don’t get put on the same shifts.”

“Jokes on you, I’m the assistant manager, I make the schedule.” 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“No, really though...you can use more than two fingers to type, it’s better that way.”

“Piss off.”

\--

“I...think that’s everything.” Shizuo said. 

Haruki looked the application over, and finally nodded. “Only took a decade, but...looks good. Listen, I’ll give you a little insider tip. If you don’t hear from her within the next 48 hours, she’s not going to call you at all.”

Shizuo thought that over. “Good to know. At least I’ll know if I don’t get it.”

“Hopefully that won’t happen, but she’s fickle. If you get an interview, bring extra copies of your resume, and do not, I repeat, do not forget the thank you email.”

“Thank you email?”

“...I’ll help you with that if it comes to it.”

“Thank you for everything today. I mean it.”

“No worries. And good luck.”

Shizuo smiled to her and nodded, before gathering his belongings. With a final wave at the door. Shizuo made his way home, quite a few hours later than intended. 

_ ‘...Fuck, I’m supposed to be at Shinra’s in an hour!’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...the pacing of this is a lot slower than I intended, but I just keep getting excited and I'm having so much fun so I really hope it's enjoyable for you guys. Plus I'm trying to set up a lot of these details now because I have plans for them to come into play later.  
Thanks so much, please leave a kudos or a comment if ya like this so far. Peace


	5. Chapter 5

Shizuo made his way as fast as he could from his apartment to his friends' apartment, scolding himself the whole way for being careless.  _ 'I won't have time to bring a gift, after they're been so good to me…' _

Catching his breath, Shizuo knocked on the underground doctor's door. As though she were waiting on the other side for the blonde to arrive, Celty opened the door and held up her phone for Shizuo to read. 'Welcome! Thanks for coming over.'

"I- Thank you for having me. I'm sorry I'm late.' 

_ Taptaptaptap.  _ 'Don't worry about that! Come in, everything's set up in the living room.' 

Shizuo followed the dullahan down the short hallway, but noticed something odd.  _ 'Is Shinra sitting in the dark? Ya know what, he's weird like that, I wouldn't put it pas-' _

_ "SURPRISE"  _ a crowd of voices erupted as Celty flipped the lights on. 

Shizuo blinked once, twice, before processing his surroundings. Shinra's apartment was decorated to the nines, with streamers and balloons and a large banner that read "WELCOME HOME!" A table was set up with snacks and desserts, another with a small collection of gifts. "You...threw me a surprise party?"

Body language giving away the fact that she was beaming, Celty showed Shizuo her phone. ‘We were so proud, we had to do something! And we're really happy that you're home again.’

Speechless, Shizuo looked over the crowd gathered in the doctor's home: Shinra and Celty, Tom, Kadota and his gang of weird friends, the Orihara twin sisters, that high school chick with a sword and her quiet frien- 

"Uh, Shinra?" Shizuo asked quietly, trying to nonchalantly point at the young twins, the one already chattering with Anri and Mikado with her sister in tow. 

"Ahh, no don't worry, he knows better."

"We sure about that?" 

Shinra thought that over. "...No, but rest assured he won't be coming."

Shizuo nodded, wondering how quickly this would all flip from a celebration to a funeral. 

Shizuo greeted each guest one by one, only hoping that he was really expressing the full extent of his gratitude. Anri and her friend bowed respectfully, the quiet paid that they are. Kadota's weird friends clung to him, asking more questions than he could even keep up with, though the few he did catch seemed to be them asking if he went on some absurd adventure like a manga character would. Kadota finally pulled them off, and greeted Shizuo himself. 

"Good to see you again, man."

"Thanks, you too." Shizuo replied, finally settling on the couch, between Tom and Kadota. "How much has the city changed since I've been gone?"

Kadota shrugged. "As if anyone can really keep up anymore. Some Yakuza business here, some kidnappers there, gang shit everywhere you look. The usual. A bit quieter without vending machines flying around that."

Shizuo let out a quiet, awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I bet…"

"So, uh, mind if I ask?

"Hm?"

"Where did you run off to?"

Shizuo blinked, before looking away, embarrassed.

"...Shinra didn't tell you guys?"

"Ahh, no, that would have been rude!" Shinra whined. "I just told everyone it was a welcome home party."

Instead of answering Kadota's question, Shizuo fished into the pocket of his vest, and pulled out a folded up paper. He unfolded it and shoved it in Kadota's hand. Kadota read the flyer over while Shizuo pretended to be entranced by the patterns of the hardwood floor.

"...Anger management?"

Shizuo adjusted his sunglasses, the cuffs of his sleeves, anything to avoid making eye contact. 

For years, Shizuo has insisted to anyone who considered him a friend that he hated his violent tendencies, but for some reason, the admittance that he went to  _ anger management  _ felt humiliating suddenly. "Uhm, yeah, I, uh, went to...a program out in the countryside."

For all of Shizuo's worrying, Kadota was not the judgemental type. "That's awesome man. How was it?"

_ Sudden flashes of the early days of the program crossed through Shizuo's mind. A thrown lobby room vending machine, a receptionist's desk, a chalkboard, other participants… _

"It, uh, was not great at first." Shizuo admit. "Pretty much went about as well as anyone expected. I was, uh, pretty much thrown out the first few weeks in. I had to plead for them to let me stay, and from there, it was...work. I mean, a lot of fucking work. They had me reading all these self help and philosophy books, I mean like a full book every day, I had a headache pretty much 24/7. And take notes on everything. They were grading me on it too, so I couldn't even half ass it. And...it was pretty much nonstop therapy and group work and all this shit." 

"Can't imagine you reading a book a day."

"Oh believe me, I couldn't either. But...it wasn't all bad. A lot of it was helpful, some of it was funny." From the same pocket as the flyer, Shizuo pulled out a small sheet of paper with four lists neatly typed. "They gave us this list of, like, generic coping skills? We had to do every single one except for one of them. Guess which one that was."

Kadota read over the page. Separated into four categories of "mental", "physical", "emotional" and "spiritual," were corresponding coping skills. Kadota scanned the list for the outlier. "...have sex?"

"Every guy in the class was pissed. Bunch of angry, older dudes for the most part, reading this over after being told ‘You’re going to do all of these during the course,’ I think actually expected the class to set them up on dates or something."

At some point, Tom had stood up, and was reading the list over Kadota's shoulder. Tom was one of the few people who was informed of Shizuo's whereabouts, mostly because it meant Shizuo wouldn't be able to work as a debt collector anymore. Disappointed to be losing a good student, Tom understood how much this meant to his long time friend, and was happy to hear Shizuo was finally reaching out for help.

"Ah, Shizuo, did you really do all of the others?" Tom asked. Shizuo nodded. "They made you hold a baby?"

"Yeah, I'm still not sure who's kid that was and why they agreed to let someone like me hold them. Turns out I'm not terrible with kids though."

"Whoa, you got to go surfing?" Erika asked. 

"Mhm, that was really cool. We took a day trip out to the ocean. I'm not very good, but it was fun."

"...Visualize a stop sign." Shinra chimed in with a concerned look.

"Yeah, they didn't realize what they were getting themselves into." Shizuo let out an awkward chuckle. "It was not fun to explain 'this is not calming because I throw these when I'm mad' to a therapist, while I was pissed off because  _ apparently  _ stop signs are a trigger for my temper."

"Yeah, I bet." Kadota chuckled.

The next hour or so was filled with an onslaught of questions, where the program was, how long he had to study, what the food was like, what other things on the list meant, until finally the question that Shizuo expected.

"What made you decide to do this?" Mikado asked. Shizuo was surprised that the high schooler that he was almost certain he has never spoken to was asking, but figured someone was bound to ask eventually. Shizuo sighed, giving Shinra and Celty a glance.

"Well, uh...I kind of had to. Because it turns out, uhm...I'm kind of dying."

A few stark looks from his friends, a hush fell over the crowd.

An awkward chuckle before clearing his throat, Shizuo continued. "Yeah, so...in February when Tom and I were working, I mean it was kind of a normal thing, guy was bitching about something stupid and I got pissed, but, as I got mad, my chest started to hurt, and when I went to swing...I don't even know, it just hurt so bad I ended up having to, like, hold my chest, I thought I was having a heart attack or something." Shizuo was re-enacting some of his narrative for his audience.

"Whoa, so you actually lost a fight?" Kadota asked, sounding surprised for the first time this evening.

"What? No I just punched the guy with my left hand and ran here to Shinra's." 

Shinra nodded, as though to confirm the facts. 

"Makes more sense." Kadota nodded.

“Shinra ran a bunch of tests, and...turns out over the years, my bones and muscles were able to heal and put up with everything, but...the rest of me, not so much.”

“Too much cortisol doesn’t do a heart good.” Shinra added. “If only  _ someone _ had let me experiment on him in elementary school before the damage had started so we could have a baseline to compare your curren-” An icy cold glare through blue lenses was enough to shut the underground doctor up. “Ahh, nevermind…But regardless, years of that kind of abuse was bound to do something. Bones heal stronger, and muscles can be strengthened through use, but our internal organs typically have a limit, and extended periods of anger and stress create havoc on the limbic system.”

“Hm.” Shizuo hummed, trying to remember what the limbic system was, before deciding it wasn’t the important part. “After looking me over and letting me know I’ve pretty much got- what was it Shinra, six years left, tops?- we called Kasuka, who pretty much decided I was not allowed to stay in Ikebukuro until we figured something out.”

Shizuo recalled an uncharacteristically worried Kasuka. Though most likely wouldn’t have caught the change in tone from the young actor, Shizuo knew his brother better. The worry,  _ panic _ , set underneath. Shizuo had tried to brush the whole incident off, tried to storm away, until his brother caught him by the sleeve.  _ “Shizuo. Please. Listen to your friend, he’s trying to help. We all are.”  _ Shizuo felt a guilty pang in his chest, only wishing Kasuka could have been fortunate enough to be raised in a different family, with a normal brother, an older brother who would be the mature and responsible one. 

Shizuo was broken from his thoughts by the sound of a loud thud, the sound of the more obnoxious Orihara twins attempting to show her karate skills off by suplexing Mikado into the dinning room. Shizuo shook his head.

“But, uh, yeah, that’s pretty much the gist of it. I ended up having to stay in Kasuka’s vacation home until we could find a program that would take me. He was pretty much convinced if I stayed in the city for longer, I wouldn’t have made it.”

“I’m...really sorry man.” Kadota said after a long moment.

“Please don’t be. I mean, this is literally my own fault. I mean, since I was a kid, I’ve let my temper get the better of me and now-”

Another loud crash from the dining area, until the long haired twin bounced up, beaming with pride, shouting something about having put the finishing blow on the older boy.

Deciding to use this interruption as an escape from the uncomfortable conversation, Shizuo poked at Shinra’s arm, and nodded his head back towards the Orihara twins.

“I get Anri and her friend but, uh, why exactly  _ did they _ show up?”

"Ah, I’m not even sure. The two actually weren't technically invited either but-"

"But they figured Kasuka would be here, so they crashed the party?"

"No, actually, that's the weirdest part! They were told  _ beforehand _ that Kasuka is filming out of the country right now and wouldn't be here."

An expression of shock crossed Shizuo's face. "Then, why?" 

Shinra shrugged. "Beats me. They're as weird as he is, I can't really get a read on them, but they brought you a gift so I left them be."

"...gift?"

"That's right " the louder twin butted her way in. "After all, you're one of the coolest people we know, and we figured for all that Iza-nee's made you put up with, you should probably be rewarded for it."

"But...he's your brother?" 

"And an asshole! Don't forget that part."

"Both are true." The quieter twin agreed.

"They wanted to support you...don't overthink it too bad." Shinra added quietly, sitting on the arm of the couch beside his friend.

The bouncier of the young girls skipped up to the blonde in way that nearly made him flinch with how much their resemblance does show. A white envelope was pushed into his hands.

"I hope you two didn't go to any kind of trouble over this...we're not really friends, all things considered." 

"No trouble at all." The quieter one reassured. Shizuo made a mental note that he should probably learn the girls' names. 

"Just did some digging in the ol' family photos for something we thought you might enjoy."

A moment of concern, before Shizuo carefully opened the envelope. From it slipped a wallet size photo. A toothy grin with auburn eyes, couldn't have been older than six, in a multicolored, very 90's looking leotard, on what looked like an obstacle course to Shizuo, with colorful mats and stages.

"Did you know Iza-nee was a gymnast?"

"The flea did gymnastics?" Shizuo thought that over for half a second before years of parkour and free-running suddenly clicked. "Of course he did. But...why are you giving me this exactly?"

"Because he  _ hates _ that picture."

"Blackmail."

Surprise, and then a chuckle. Not that he could see it being enough to really throw the flea off, it was nice of them to try. Well, it's nice for Shizuo at least. "Thank you." Shizuo slipped the photo into his wallet, hoping there would be an opportunity to use it. 

It was around this time that some of the guests began to file out. Anri and Mikado excused themselves first, then Katoda and his group. At some point, the twins snuck out as well, though Shizuo wondered if they were simply hiding and looking for the next opportunity to cause trouble. Tom wished Shizuo well and reminded him to keep in touch as he left. Shizuo agreed he would, and begun to help clean the decorations and food with Shinra while Celty tried to fix a dining room chair that seemed to have been destroyed by something about the weight of a high school student. 

Shizuo repeatedly thanked Shinra and Celty for their kindness, with much reassurance from both that it was not necessary. 

‘We just hope you had a nice time.’ Celty typed.

“It was cool having everyone one again!” Shinra added while discovering that the tupperware he chose to save leftover cake in does not have a lid. 

Finally the time seemed to come for the bartender to leave his friend’s company. Wishing them both a good night, Shizuo headed out and towards his apartment, deciding to take a more scenic route through one of the local parks. Stopping for a moment, Shizuo lit a cigarette and admired Ikebukuro in the fall.

_ ‘When a moment feels good, stop and enjoy it.’  _

The cool October air, the gentle drift of leaves, the hazy glow of the sun setting low on the horizon behind sky scraping buildings…

_ Mrrreow _

“Hm?” Shizuo looked down. At his feet, wide green eyes stared back at him. A calico cat rubbed herself again his pant leg. “Huh...you seem a bit friendly for a stray.” Cautiously, Shizuo leaned down to examine the animal. Soft white fur with large brown and tan patches, the cat meowed as though to greet the blonde. Shizuo tilted his head, sat back on his heels and watched her. While she didn’t have a collar or anything, she seemed too personable around a human to be a stray. Shizuo put out his cigarette, then reached his hand towards her. The calico immediately rubbed her head against his hand. Shizuo scratched behind her ear, receiving a purr in response. 

“Guess I made a new friend tonight. Well, I gotta get going, but, uh, if you hang out in this park a lot, I’ll try to bring you something.” A final scratch before standing upright and making to head home. 

A trail of meows seemed to follow him. Shizuo looked behind him to discover he was being followed. “Uhm, no I don’t think I can have a cat in my complex. Sorry little guy.” 

More demanding meows ensued. Shizuo stopped and turned to her again. “...I can’t have a cat, sorry.”

_ Mrrrr. _

“Listen, my landlord already hates me...I really am sorry.”

An affectionate rub against his pant leg, large eyes catching his. A battle played out between them, before Shizuo sighed and leaned down, hesitating, before scooping the cat up and placing her on his shoulder. “Fine, but you have to promise to be quiet when I’m not home. And no tearing at the posters.” 

The calico rubbed her head against Shizuo’s, knocking his glasses askew. 

“Don’t wear out your welcome.” 

Calico in tow, Shizuo started his journey to his apartment. “Cats like milk, right? I hope ya do, ‘cause it’s pretty much all I have in the house right now. Oh, and a can of tuna or two, we can split that tomorrow, maybe for lunch. Guess I’m gonna have to go shopping again though. Not sure what I need for a cat...Oh, but Kasuka has a cat, remind me to text him when we get home?” Shizuo’s new friend purred against his cheek. He chuckled. “Alright, I’ll try to remind myself. You better hope I do though, or else I’m going into a pet store blind and you’re gonna end up with some rand-” Shizuo stopped dead in his tracks.

Across the park, up on an overpass, auburn eyes locked with his. The fur trimmed coat, the cheshire grin,  _ the smell of shit- _

The hair on the back of Shizuo’s neck stood up. The cat on his shoulder seemed to react in tune with the brute, back arching and hair standing on end, ready to pounce if needed.

The longer Shizuo stood frozen in his place, the wider the other’s grin became. Shizuo’s chest seemed to tighten the more he felt the familiar fury boil beneath the surface. 

_ ‘This is it...This is my test. This is how we find out if I really learned anything.’ _

A deep breath, and then another. It took every fiber of his being, every ounce of energy he had, to simply lower his gaze, lock back onto the path he was following, to act as though this was a casual encounter, and continue his stride. ‘ _ One step in front of the other...One step at a time.’  _ Shizuo put conscious effort into walking as calmly as he could, though he could tell he was still radiating with rage by the way his new friend stayed perched on top of him. 

The rest of the walk home was spent focus shifting from one de-escalation tactic to another. Coming into his apartment, the cat finally relaxed as she dismounted the blonde’s shoulder and made herself immediately comfortable on the center of Shizuo’s bed. 

Shizuo laid his blanket on the center of the floor and sat in the middle, still physically tense but making every effort to calm himself. Some mediation, he had decided, would bring him back to the peaceful feelings of calm and belonging he felt while at Shinra and Celty’s. A deep breath and then another, rolling his shoulders back, and shifting his attention to his breathing, Shizuo tried to dismiss thoughts and worries and concerns as they emerged. Time drifted into an irrelevant theory, thoughts quelmed, until all that remained was the quiet bliss of simply being. 

Fast asleep beside him, the calico purred, comfortable in her new home.

-

Across the city, an information broker skipped his way to Shibuya, excitement at having found his long lost rival igniting a passion he hasn’t felt in months.

_ Let the games begin. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, this is the list Shizuo was showing everyone: https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/3I4CwbBcI65Q2D3pz7D6Cj6fKBSU8dVnX0LXvse3lloQ4du6jJTYO8eIChl7vNV9kZokYqPrW5vNQqMXBcBXi2hp4AVSHHY_yUDgfZOtM01c2tYtp7dmIDYTFzSvbzm5wYIKnrKvkIn-0URKYg
> 
> I used to work as a mental health case manager (i.e. an unlicensed therapist). I used to give this list to all of my clients, and every single one would point out the same two. "Have sex" and "Scream." I was looking through some old notes and laughed at the idea of Shizuo having to do all of them, so I went with it. Maybe the list finds you well though.   
Thank you for your patience. I've been getting way ahead of myself when writing these chapters and definitely gong a touch overboard. Let me know if it was worth it, I guess.
> 
> Thanks


	6. Chapter 6

Borderline manic laughter echoed throughout alleyways as Izaya passed. The information broker skipped through the streets, a spring in his step that was childlike in nature. A head filled with racing thoughts, the broker could hardly contain his excitement, plotting and planning his entire walk home. The mental chess game he played with this city was set, ready for the first move, but chess is a game played five moves ahead, already planned and ready. 

Once in his apartment, Izaya greeted Namie, his cheerful disposition annoying her immediately.

“You’re happier than normal.” She commented.

“Ahh, Namie, that's because the beast has returned!” Izaya announced, stepping up onto the arm of his couch. “We’re ready to resume our game, as soon as I decide my first play.” Izaya was bouncing on the couch like an excited child, while Namie huffed impatiently. 

“Don’t you have some kind of work to be doing?”

“Worry about what I pay you to worry about. But this isn’t a time for worry at all! We should be celebrating. Dinner tonight, my treat! Shabu shabu? Korean barbecue? Let’s go all out and get Russian sushi!” Izaya stood perched on the arm of the couch, before dramatically falling back onto the sofa. A slight miscalculation in his excitement, however, resulted in the back of his skull colliding with the arm on the other side of the couch, the sound of the impact echoing through the lofty space.

“Serves you right for acting like a fool” Namie chided. 

Rubbing the back of his head, Izaya sat up and scowled for a moment before the grin he’s had plastered to his face returned. “So? What should we get?”

“We won’t be getting anything together. I’m going home to make Seiji dinner and spend time with him.”

Izaya made a face, disgusted by the incestuous relationship his secretary has, though he almost pitied her for how one-sided it was. A huff from the broker at being dismissed, Izaya flopped backwards again, this time with enough foresight to brace his head with his arms. An equally dramatic sigh escaped him.

“Are you done acting like a child?”

Izaya simply huffed again in response.

“I pity the woman that’s foolish enough to fall for you.”

“Ahh, I don’t exactly see myself being able to dedicate myself to one woman.”

“This your way of hinting that you’re not interested in women?

“What are you implying?” He tested.

“I’m going home. Enjoy your shabu shabu or whatever you decide on.”

Not even Namie’s bitter mood could put a damper on the broker’s elation. Izaya glanced towards the chess board set with various pieces on the coffee table. Reaching over, he gently poked at one of the pawn pieces, moving it a few spaces over.

_ ‘Let the games begin...Shizu-chan’ _

-

No alarm, no schedule, nowhere to be. The sound of a bird chirping waking him, Shizuo grumbled as he opened his eyes. Sitting upright, and trying to stretch out a pain he might have developed in his sleep, Shizuo wondered why the sound of chirping was so much closer than normal. Turning to the hole that was formed yesterday, a small finch was making itself comfortable between the pieces of broken sheet rock. 

Shizuo sighed, feeling defeated before the day had even begun. The physical tension of the night prior made it difficult to sleep, and his mind was restless. Old anxieties were returning, and Shizuo wondered if this new lifestyle he’s made for himself would really be sustainable. 

An impatient meow broke Shizuo from his thoughts. His new friend stared at him, expectant, wide green eyes watching him from her place on the floor. Another deep sigh before getting up, bones and joints cracking at every movement. Shizuo went through a few different stretches, and then headed into his small kitchen. Not one for breakfast, Shizuo decided on a glass of milk for himself, and looked to the calico. She sat beside him, waiting. Rummaging through his cabinets, Shizuo found a small rice bowl that would probably make a good cat dish for the time being. He poured half of his glass of milk into her bowl, and lowered it for her to examine. A cautious paw tested the milk first, and after deciding it was up to par, drank from her newly approved dish. Shizuo found a second bowl, though the pair were mismatched, and filled it with water. Watching the cat drink, Shizuo tried to mentally list what he would need to take care of her. As far back as Shizuo could remember, he had never owned a pet before and wasn’t sure where to start. 

The sound of Shizuo’s phone going off pulled him from his current dilemma. The blonde fished his phone out of his previous day’s pants pocket, mentally noting he should probably keep better track of where he leaves it. 

The number wasn’t one he recognized, though that didn’t mean much. “Hello?”

“Heiwajima-san. Congratulations, your application was impressive enough to warrant a call. I was hoping you could come in for an interview, an actual one this time, and not just you rambling to one of my employees.”

Surprised, Shizuo’s eyes widen. “I-I would be honored! Yes!”

“Are you available this afternoon?”

“Whenever, absolutely!”

“Great, I can meet with you at 4pm today. See you there.”

“Y-yes! Thank you!”

Shizuo flipped his cell closed, and turned back to the cat in his kitchen, who was now pushing her empty dish back and forth. “Did ya hear that? I got an interview. I actually got a call back." 

_ Mrrow. _

A huff from the blonde. “Alright, at least pretend to be happy for me.” 

A purr instead. 

“Better. Alright, I’ve got...six hours to kill, and a to do list that needs some work.”

Item one: dye hair.

-

A lesson that Shizuo had learned from years of experience: hair bleach, while uncomfortable on skin, will really only leave a slight red mark, which on him fades quicker than for others. 

A lesson that he wished he had learned prior to today: hair dye will stain anything and everything, especially ears and foreheads. Shizuo scrubbed his forehead with a hand towel, trying desperately to remove the brown blotchy stain. His hair thankfully came out fine, but Shizuo worried about having the bar owner judge him further. While furiously scrubbing the skin off of his forehead, Shizuo mentally recited some common interview questions he could remember being asked prior to working for the debt collection agency. Strengths, weaknesses, examples of leadership skills, and so on. This went on until he couldn’t be sure the headache was from trying to remove the dye or thinking too hard. Bracing himself against the vanity, Shizuo glared at the faded but present brown patch until a meow gained his attention.

“You’re a talkative little thing, ya know that? I was hoping for a quiet roommate...But I should probably text Kasuka since _ someone _forgot to remind me last night.”

Flipping his phone open, Shizuo managed to write out _ “Back in ‘Bukoro, got a cat, what does he need?” _ Texting was not a strong suit of his, but an effort was made. 

While waiting on a response from his busy sibling, Shizuo set out to complete other tasks from his to do list. Constant chirping, however, reminded him that a new item would need to be added. 

Down on all fours, Shizuo examined the growing nest that was occupying his apartment, and the small, round bird that flew in and out. “Don’t think they’re gonna be cool with me having a cat, so having _ two _pets is definitely out of the question…” Sitting up, Shizuo looked around the apartment for something to patch the hole, at least temporarily. Spotting a cardboard box in the corner, he considered that it could work. Grabbing some scissors, Shizuo worked on cutting a square out of the box, hoping that cardboard and duct tape would be enough for now. The sound of the cat hissing, pouncing, and the sudden stop to the chirping, and Shizuo decided that so long as he doesn’t turn around, there won’t be a dead bird in his apartment, and noted that “buying cat food” will definitely need to be made a priority for today. 

-

The rest of the day seemed to drag as Shizuo waited anxiously for his interview. He had gone to a local library to print out extra copies of the resume Haruki helped him prepare, and stopped at the grocery store on his way back with cat food, a litter box, and a small stuffed bird toy that he only prayed would satisfy the little killer. 

When the clock finally read an appropriate enough time that Shizuo could show up without being _ too _early, he did a final check of his appearance before wishing the cat a nice afternoon and headed out. 

The cool autumn air did little to help him from sweating nervously. Self conscious and anxious, he smoked maybe one too many cigarettes as he made his way through the busy streets, careful this time to avoid tourists and bystanders stopped randomly in the middle. 

_ ‘Deep breath, and then another. Been through this before, and I’m actually good at this job. It’ll be okay’ _ Shizuo recited, over and over, with little relief. _ ‘It’s okay, I can handle this.’ _

But fate has a way of testing humans, often when things are already tense. Adrenaline coursing, and an already tight chest, the glint of metal caught his attention. 

Metal belonging to a familiar switchblade. 

Shizuo stopped abruptly, eyes travelling from the switchblade, to the hand that held it, to the fur trimmed coat.

“Well, look at you, Shizu-chan. Dyed your hair? And a sweatshirt? Are we trying to change our appearance to stay hidden?”

“Izaya…”

“Welcome home, old friend. It’s been quiet without you around, almost had some peace in Ikebukuro, but you know we just can’t have that, can we?”

A deep sigh, and Shizuo finally dared to make eye contact with the broker. The smug expression, the mischievous auburn eyes, the proud posture, Shizuo had to fight back an automated response of swinging for right between the broker’s eyes. 

“...Can I help you with something, Izaya?”

Izaya’s head tilted, a bit surprised that the former blonde hasn’t threatened him with violence already. “I guess just a little bit of fun. It's been quite a while, Shizu-chan.”

“Ah, yeah, no. I’m kind of in a rush.” Shizuo tried to step to the side, to get around the other. Taken aback, Izaya matched Shizuo’s step, keeping them face to face, and regained his composure. 

“Not like you to run from a fight.” Izaya commented, switchblade raised and pointed at Shizuo. Shizuo sighed; he hadn’t expected his long time rival to make this easy, but it wasn’t any less annoying. Regardless, Shizuo had prepared for this, and took in the scene.

_ ‘I always strike first, and always with my right hand. He’s going to expect that...Izaya’s mostly right handed but fights with both, so I can’t take any chances on either side.’ _Deciding how his old habits would have played out, Shizuo made as though to step forward. 

And as he predicted, Izaya expected a right swing, and dodged a punch that never came, and went to counter with his knife. Two steps to the side, and Shizuo was side to side with the information broker instead, and caught Izaya’s extended arm, switchblade tightly wielded in the information broker’s hand.

“Listen, I’ve got a job interview in like twenty minutes, so I can’t really afford to have to you cutting this shirt up. So-” Shizuo used Izaya’s surprised state to his advantage, and easily pried the switchblade from his hand. Shizuo held it for Izaya to see. “-I’ll be taking this for now. I promise you’ll get it back at some point though.” Shizuo unzipped his hoodie, and slipped the blade into his vest pocket, re-zipped the hoodie, then gave the broker a two finger salute before turning on his heel and hurrying along. “See ya around.” 

Speechless and in a state of what could only be described as shock, Izaya stood on the sidewalk as strangers and bystanders made their way around him, his arm still somewhat extended until he finally lowered his now empty hand, examining his palm. Uncharacteristically lost for words, he stared into his hand, the only metal now present being the ring around his index finger.

“He...He took…He took my fucking knife.”

-

“Heiwajima-san, let’s...cut to the chase, shall we?" the bar's owner, Asuhara, asked after a few typical interview questions.

"Okay."

"I made the...unorthodox decision of calling your references before actually meeting with you. I am well aware of your _ reputation _but, I wanted to know what your past employers thought of you as an employee and...Do you know what they had to say?”

Embarrassed and not sure he would be able to handle hearing her response, he lowered his head, before finally shaking it in response to her question.

“...That all things considered, when you’re not destroying half of the infrastructure of the city...That you’re not bad. That you’ve got a good work ethic, come in every day and work hard..._ And _your previous bar employers all agreed that you’re pretty damn good at making a martini, but I’ll be the judge of that..”

A slight relief washed over him, Shizuo nodded, grateful to have heard something positive about his work for once. “Thank you.”

“So, listen, I’m...willing to give you an offer, but you have to understand that if even a single thing goes wrong, if _ anything _in this bar gets broken or the reputation here harmed, I can’t afford it, Heiwajima, I just can’t. This bar is all I’ve got, and I’m not about to lose that over a 20-something year old’s short temper and freakish strength.”

“I understand that. I wouldn’t ask for you to.”

“Then, we have a deal?”

“Y-yes! Thank you so much!”

Asuhara waived off Shizuo’s thanks, adding in one more “I’m serious though, I will fire you on the spot if anything goes wrong…” Shizuo nodded in understanding. “As long as we’re on the same page. If you’re up for it, I can have you start training tomorrow night. We can do a full shift, half with Yomo and half with Haruki. Come in around 4, I’ll have you stay until 10.”

“Thank you!”

“And Heiwajima? Don’t make me regret this.”

-

Once he stepped from the office, an excited chirp came from the bar. Haruki was leaning over half of the bartop, nearly bouncing in anticipation.

“So? So? So? What happened?”

“...I start tomorrow.”

“Yes! I knew you’d get it! Aw, that’s awesome!” 

“Thank you again. I wouldn’t have gotten this far on my own.”

“Don’t sweat it. Oh, this is awesome, I’m going to make you do all of the shitty grunt work, it’s going to be great.”

“You’re awful.”

“Makiko, come meet the rookie.”

A woman who looked around Shizuo’s mother’s age was busy cleaning at the other end of the establishment. Upon hearing her name, she came and greeted the younger two.

“Makiko, Shizuo. Shizuo, this is Makiko, though we usually call her Maki or Mama, seeing as she’s pretty much everyone’s mom around here.” 

“Welcome aboard, sir. I look forward to working with you.”

“Oh, thank you, you as well.”

“Wait ‘til you meet Yomo, she’s the coolest. She looks and acts like one of those idol girls. She’s in med school right now, but she runs the bar’s social media page. I mean, she’s got like 20,000 followers on her main page, and she’s got the bar up to like 10,000 which is a lot for a restaurant.”

“...I have almost no idea what you just said.”

“It’s okay, dear, I almost never understand her either.” Makiko agreed.

Haruki rolled her eyes and made a comment about how Makiko has a valid excuse, seeing as she has two children, while Shizuo’s essentially already a senior citizen trapped in a 24 year old body. 

“Oh, and speaking of old…” Haruki added. “The, uh, bartender get up is a bit much for here. Might wanna relax it a bit.”

“...I wear this every day.”

“Yeah, that’s even weirder. I mean, the pants and stuff are fine, but maybe just a plain white button up. I mean, you can keep the bowtie if you wanna feel snazzy but, I mean, this is a college-age crowd mostly, no one upper class is coming in here expecting to be waited on.”

There must be some kind of irony, Shizuo wondered, in spending three years wearing a bartender’s uniform as a debt collector, just to be told he was overdressed to be a bartender…

Shizuo sighed, annoyed, but said he’d consider it. Haruki shrugged and added that there was no real dress code, he could wear it if he wanted, but if he wanted to fit in with the crowd that frequents the bar, he’d want to consider keeping it more casual. Shizuo reiterated that he would consider it, though he was still overly sentimental about his brother having been kind enough to give him the uniforms to ditch them so easily. 

Shizuo wished the two a good day, and headed out. 

-

“So she pretty much said that so long as I don’t break anything, I can work for her.”

“That’s great, Shizuo” Kasuka replied. To anyone else, the monotone response from the other side of the call would have sounded insincere, but growing up with the stoic actor, the older Heiwajima could hear the emotion behind the words: pride, and relief. 

“Thanks. Thanks for everything this past year. You’ve done so much for me, and I’m sorry you have to be the responsible one and I’m not a better older brother, I should be looking out for you but I’m jus-”

“Nonsense.” Kasuka interrupted, tone stern. “I wouldn’t want anyone else for a brother.”

Heart swelling, Shizuo smiled. “Thanks Kasuka... I’m still kinda pissed off about the dress code thing, though.”

“Why?”

“Well, I mean, if I’m going to be a bartender again, shouldn’t I look the part?”

“You said it’s a younger crowd, right? And that you want to blend in more?”

Shizuo sighed. “Yeah, but...I dunno. You spent so much on the uniforms” Shizuo said quietly.

“Don’t worry about that. I just wanted you to have a stable job. The uniform wasn’t what mattered. I’m just glad you’re getting back on your feet.”

“Me too.”

In the background of the call, Shizuo could hear who he assumed was the director shouting instructions. “Ah, I’ve got to go. But good luck. And let me know what you think of the delivery.”

“Delivery?”

Kasuka’s stage name was announced as he was being called to set. “I’ll call you soon.”

“See ya.”

Shizuo slipped his phone back into his pocket, and gazed out over the overpass. Standing on the side of a walk bridge, the city of Ikebukuro glowed with an orange haze in the late afternoon. It was a comfortable spot to smoke while Shizuo waited for his friend. While lost in the scenery of the city, a motorcycle stopped beside him. Celty tapped her friend’s shoulder, and waved to greet him. Shizuo greeted her in return. 

_ Taptaptap. _

‘You said you had a favor to ask?’

“Ah, yeah. I was wondering how much you charge for your transporter services.”

Celty’s helmet tilted to the side, and she typed her response.

‘You need a courier? It depends on the job usually.’

“Ah, I figured.”

‘What is it?’

From his vest pocket, Shizuo fished out the brown handled switchblade, and handed it to the Dullahan. Celty took it and examined the weapon, before juggling it and her phone in one hand to type her response.

‘This is Izaya’s? How on Earth did you get this? Is he dead somewhere?’

The excitement of his accomplishment was finally hitting the bartender. Grinning from ear to ear, Shizuo responded “I did it, Celt.” Celty waited for him to elaborate. “I actually did it. I saw that little fucking bastard and didn’t try to fight him.”

Celty’s body language changed to that of surprise, before she quickly typed for him to tell her what happened.

“Okay, so I was on my way to a job interview- I got a _ job interview _ Celty, I just got a job, but I’ll get back to that. Okay, so I’m walking down the street, and I’m looking down, not really paying attention, until I see this fucking thing-” Shizuo pointed to the switchblade in Celty’s hand. “And I hear his little dumb fucking mouth running. I was fuming, I wanted to knock him out right then and there, it’s all I wanted to do, _ but I didn’t! _ I didn’t start a fight, I didn’t throw anything or break anything, I just tried to get away and when he went to stab me, I just dodged and took this and left.”

Shizuo was animated through his tale, reenacting some of the details for his friend. Celty was clapping her hands, sharing in her friend’s excitement. 

‘Shizuo, that’s great!’

“I can’t believe it, Celt, I can’t believe I did it. I’ve gotten so mad every time I’ve seen him since I met the fucking flea, I’ve lost control every time and could never stop it, but this time I did. I actually did.”

Celty saw something in her friend’s expression that warmed her.

‘You look happy Shizuo. Genuinely happy.’

“I am! I am, I don’t think I’ve been this happy since I was a kid, this is the first time since I was a kid that I felt in control of myself and I’m just so happy and I-” Shizuo stopped abruptly as the dullahan hugged him. As his body tensed, Celty quickly backed off, and typed an apology. 

‘I didn’t mean to scare you! Sorry! I was just excited for you’

“Ah, yeah, no I appreciate it, you just surprised me. Besides Shinra and Kadota’s weird friends, people aren’t usually too quick to hug me.”

‘That sounds...sad.’

“...Yeah, it kinda did. Didn't mean for it to. But I mean, if we wanna make it sadder, I don’t think I could ever really hug someone back. I’m kinda afraid of breaking someone.”

Celty tapped her finger to her helmet as she thought, and then tapped a response on her phone.

‘I’m sure you could, with practice.’

_ Taptaptap _

‘If you can learn to control your temper, you can learn to control your strength too, right?’

“I mean, that sounds nice in theory, but again, might break someone.”

‘What about me?’

“What about you?”

‘I’m not technically alive, and I don’t think I can die. I heal faster than humans, and don’t feel pain as bad.’

“That’s a nice offer, but I’m not doing that.”

Celty looked at the switchblade, and decided for her friend. _ Taptaptaptap. _

‘I’ll make you a deal: the cost of me transporting this back to Izaya’ She held the switchblade up, and then typed out her bargain. ‘Will either be: you hug me, or 30,000,000 yen’

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

‘Dealer’s choice’

“This is embarrassing.”

_ Taptaptap. _

‘You’re a good person with a good heart. I’d like to see you be able to share that with someone one day.’

Shizuo sighed, and gave the dullahan a defeated smile. “Thanks...Well, you know I’m broke as shit, so, uh…Bring ‘er here, I guess.” Celty threw her arms out wide, and waited. Overly cautious with his movements, Shizuo carefully wrapped his arms around her. The pair stood awkwardly for a moment, but after seemingly not having crushed his friend immediately, Shizuo relaxed and loosened his posture, hugging her just a bit tighter. Celty gently patted his shoulder, reassuring him she was fine. Feeling confident, Shizuo hugged _ just a bit _ tighter, until an audible crack echoed. 

Shizuo flung himself back, spewing apologizes immediately. Celty’s left arm had broken, but was already healing itself back. The pain was excruciating, but she wasn’t going to let her friend know that. She pushed on it to try and help the bone reset quicker. Once the bone reset itself, she typed on her phone.

‘I, uh, think that’s good for today.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can pry Shizuo and Celtys friendship from my cold dead hands. Their friendship is so important to me and I love them both.  
There's also supposed to be another major event in this chapter but I just don't have it in me, so the next chapter might be shorter than I want it to be..But thank you for your comments and kudos, it's really been helping me. I appreciate it so much.


	7. Chapter 7

Arriving back at his apartment, Shizuo found a pile of delivery boxes, towering almost as high as the door itself. Assuming this was what his brother had meant, Shizuo pushed his way through and unlocked his door. Unpacking box after box, Shizuo discovered that his younger brother bought him anything and everything he could possibly need to care for a cat. A tall cat tower, scratching posts, a variety of toys, and so on; the gifts for the small critter seemed endless. Shizuo sighed, certainly grateful but the studio apartment was already just big enough to fit his belongings, and he was going to have to reorganize to accommodate. The calico sauntered over and under and around Shizuo while he opened all of her new toys, occasionally knocking at a few of them with a curious paw. 

One box contained a small black cat collar, and a note from Kasuka that read "I hope you find being a cat owner to be rewarding. This should help you get set up. -Kasuka."

Shizuo lit himself a cigarette while setting up the cat tower, the calico already trying to explore and play on it while he worked. "Impatient little thing, it's not staying in the center of the room ya know." The calico meowed in response, and leapt halfway through the expanse of the apartment, landing near the kitchenette opening. She sat and meowed until Shizuo looked back at her over his shoulder. Once she had gained his attention, she smacked the rice bowl that contained milk this morning, sending it in his direction.

Shizuo huffed. "Impatient and demanding." 

-

On the other side of the city, Izaya waited, perched on the top of a park bench, and scrolled through one of his phones until he heard the infamous black bike. Celty pushed the kickstand of her motorcycle down and approached the broker.

“Ahh, my trustworthy courier, it’s rare for you to bring work to me. What kind of job is it?”

_ Taptaptaptap _

‘It’s not a job for you. You _ are _my job.’

A curious head tilt. “Oh?”

From inside of her jumpsuit, Celty produced Izaya’s switchblade. A bitter expression crossed his face. “Ah, I see.” Celty handed the blade to Izaya, and went back to her bike. “Ah, that’s it? I don’t even get an explanation?” Izaya whined, leaning forward towards the courier.

Impatient, Celty typed a response. 

‘I don’t owe you anything.’ Celty showed him her phone, then quickly returned it to her sleeve and took off.

Izaya huffed and examined his switchblade, carefully turning over the beloved knife to ensure his rival hadn’t done any damage to it. 

That was a bit more surprising, though. A perfect opportunity for the brute, and he didn’t take advantage? Not like destroying one of the many switchblades in Izaya’s collection would have done much, but it’s the principle of the matter. ‘_ Why go through the trouble of returning it?’ _Izaya wondered.

‘_ An unexpected move from the beast, but the game isn’t over yet.’ _

-

"For the last fucking time," Shizuo warned. "Watch the attitude. You're not paying the rent, now are ya?"

A bitter sounding meow responded.

"Didn't think so. Kasuka bought you, like, five hundred different things to scratch, so if you put your goddamn claws on that mattress _ one more time-" _

Shizuo's cell phone rang, interrupted the new roommates' first argument. Sighing in aggravation and rubbing his temple, Shizuo answered. “Yeah?"

"Hey man!" Tom's voice sounded from the other end. "Just wanted to check in, make sure you're still doing okay."

The warmth of being remembered, of being cared for, was enough to temporarily resolve his frustration. 

"Tom, hey. I-I'm doing pretty good. Really good, actually I didn't get to tell you, I got a new job today."

"No way! That's great. Where are you going to be working at?"

"A bar uptown. It seems pretty nice, I start tomorrow night."

"That's great man. Maybe I'll stop by with my new partner, try and get her to loosen up a bit? A few drinks in her an- Ow! Okay, okay, sorry. Sorry Shizuo, she said no. Well she actually punched me but still. Hey, do you wanna maybe get lunch tomorrow instead? I can introduce you two. Maybe you'll have better luck with her." Tom grumbled the last part so only Shizuo could hear. 

The bartender chuckled. "Uhh, I doubt that, but lunch sounds good. Yeah, we can meet up." 

"Wacdonalds?"

"That's about where my price range is at, so I'm down. 2pm?"

"See ya then, man."

"See ya." The snap of his cell phone closing, before turning his attention to the kitten with a paw raised to the aforementioned furniture, and the pain in his temple returning. "What did I just fucking tell you?"

-

A single alarm, a schedule, and somewhere to be. Waking up knowing that this would be the first night that the bartender worked in nearly a year was both anxiety-invoking and exciting. Being back in the workforce, a real member of society, with friends and family supporting him. Shizuo counted his blessings as he went through his morning routine of stretching, calming exercises, and now feeding his small and demanding critter. The calico cat sauntered around the apartment while Shizuo sifted through a box filled with various types of canned cat food. There were so many boxes that he had given up at one point, and decided the cat can live partially packed, seeing as she believes the apartment is her own anyway. While pouring her dish, and having to fight her from eating it as it poured from the can, Shizuo wondered about her origin, and if she really might have been a stray or not. ‘_ She’s overly affectionate about people, but also seems to have some real instinct…’ _

The rest of the morning was quiet for the pair. Shizuo watched TV while the calico gazed out the window, occasionally meowing some chatter. 

_ Mrrrew? _

“Nah, I have to get going soon. I’m supposed to meet up with Tom and my replacement.”

_ Mew. _

“No, I’m not jealous.”

_ ...Mew. _

A head tilt, and Shizuo wondered at what point is it considered legally insane to have an imaginary conversation with an animal. “Wonder if this is one of those perks to being a pet owner no one talks about?”

_ Mrrrrrw _

“You really are noisy though.” Shizuo said. 

As the morning drifted away, Shizuo started getting himself ready. “Dress down, I still can’t believe this…” Shizuo muttered to himself while searching through his closet for a plain white button down.

“Three god damn years as a debt collector, and I’m _ too dressy _for a bartending gig.”

The calico gave Shizuo an uninterested mew, enough for him to realize that he may be overreacting a touch. Shizuo considered the fact that he should be grateful to have a job again after such a long period of unemployment, and that the dress code isn’t really what matters. 

Shizuo sighed, scratched the calico behind her ear, and asked her to watch out for any more intruding finches before heading out. Zipping up his black hoodie, Shizuo set out to meet with Tom.

Blue shades glinting in the sunlight and the trail of cigarette smoke, the walk to the local fast food chain was peaceful.

_ Peaceful. _

The past few days have been a whirlwind, but with the overwhelming amount of good things in his life, Shizuo began to walk with his head held high. Celty and Shinra, Tom, his brother, the people in his life have made the long and arduous process of learning to manage his anger to something that actually felt worth it. 

Being so lost in his thoughts, Shizuo hadn’t even realized how much time had passed, and how quickly he really does walk.

Checking the time, Shizuo was a few minutes early, and opted to getting his food first and saving a table. Settling into a nice window spot, Shizuo watched the people of Ikebukuro while he waited. The town was filled with interesting characters, so many that it seemed that everyone had some kind of fundamental part in the city. Like each person was just as essential as the next...and the idea that Shizuo could become one of _ these _people, instead of one of its monsters, was a hope that he held on to. 

A sound of a tray being set down brought Shizuo back to the present. Standing before him was his previous mentor, and his replacement. Tom’s description of her seemed to be fitting at least; a beautiful blonde woman, with cold eyes and a blank expression.

“Yo, Shizuo, how are you? Shizuo, this is Varona. Varona, this is my previous student, Shizuo.”

Varona nodded, while Shizuo greeted her. The pair settled in across from the bartender. Tom had ordered food for himself and Varona, though she seemed less than impressed with her food, mostly picking at it while the other two ate. 

“Uhm, so Varona, Tom said that you were working at Russia Sushi for a while. Did you know Simon? Like, before you stated there, I mean.”

“Affirmative.” She replied.

Shizuo looked between Tom and her. Tom merely shrugged, his face conveying the message of _ she’s just like that, roll with it. _

“Ah, that’s pretty cool. Are...you from Russia?”

“Affirmative.”

Tom sighed, having already learned some of the blunt woman’s quirks. “So, Shizuo, you mentioned you got a new gig. You excited?”

“Yeah, actually. I’ve been nervous, but more than anything, I’m just excited to be doing something again.”

“Yeah, I imagine. Pretty quick though, you only got back a few days ago, and now look at you! Back on your feet, back in the workforce.”

Shizuo let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. How’s everything at the agency?”

“Eh, it’s been alright. Things have been tight lately, there’s not too many of us left, so we’re all working a lot. But this one-” Tom playfully nudged at Varona’s shoulder, earning a slight glare, "- pretty damn good. Don’t underestimate her, she kicks some serious ass.”

“Whoa, that’s so cool. Do you do martial arts or something?”

“A little of everything. I understand the fundamental basics of various forms of self defense and martial arts. I...trained a bit back home.”

“That’s awesome” Shizuo’s whole expression lit up. “I’ve got a lot of respect for that. It’s a lot of work, but the people who dedicate their lives to that? Man, that’s awesome.”

Tom listened as Varona and Shizuo discussed different kinds of fighting. Tom noted that Shizuo seemed enthralled by his new partner’s explanations of how she’d trained herself to fight from reading, and that Varona was finally answering with more than two words in a sentence. Just when he was feeling that he may have some real luck as a matchmaker, Tom looked out through the window and spotted a vagabond across the street that looked familiar. Pulling out a picture from his coat pocket, he nudged at Varona’s arm for her to confirm. Varona looked between the picture and man Tom was pointing to before nodding. Tom sighed. 

“Sorry to cut this short, man. We’ve been chasing after this dude for like a week now and he’s eluded us each time.”

Shizuo waved off Tom’s apologies. “Go do what you gotta do, I know how it goes. Good luck guys, and uh, Varona, it was really nice meeting you.”

“You as well.” Varona nodded to Shizuo, and the pair made haste out of the restaurant.

Shizuo watched through the large window as Tom and Varona sprinted across the street, chasing after the deadbeat. Reminiscing on his past career, it left a bittersweet feeling. Not being able to work with Tom anymore, who’s been such a strong support of his since middle school, Shizuo worried about what his new work environment will be like, if the people will be easy to work with, what other kind of pitfalls he may not have considered. 

All of these worries were put to a sudden halt as a familiar and grating voice interrupted Shizuo from enjoying his meal in peace.

“Shizu-chaaan…”

The vein in his temple reacted before anything else. A deep sigh, Shizuo looked up at Izaya, standing across from the table. 

“Is this seat taken?”

“If I tell you that it is, are you going to respect that and walk away?”

“Well, if it is, I’ll just keep it warm for them.” Izaya said, sitting across from Shizuo. Shizuo’s eye twitched on reflex.

Unbridled rage lay dormant, just beneath the surface, just low enough that Shizuo could taste battery acid on the back of his tongue and the gripping pain of his constricting chest. The physical act of restraining his automated responses to the flea were enough to leave his body shaking, fighting against the resistant he put up. The more this physiological response went on, the harder it was to hold back, and the wider the broker’s grin became. 

The two sat in uncomfortable silence for, what Shizuo could have bargained, eternity. Both merely watched the other from across the table, calculating, waiting, seeing who would dare to break that tension first. 

Shizuo mentally reviewed, recalled, and recited any coping skills he could think of. Six months of program had to pay off for something, afterall.

The broker’s head tilted to the side. 

“So, Shizu-chan-”

“I’ve asked you not to call me that.”

“-I gotta say, you’re putting on a very good act.”

An icy glare from behind blue lenses. Shizuo first wanted to rip the broker’s tongue out of his mouth, but went with the simple response of “What act?”

“Pretending to be human, of course.”

Shizuo’s entire being was vibrating with rage. Deciding that some kind of physical distractor was needed, Shizuo lit himself a cigarette.

“It’s very convincing.” Izaya continued. “I’ve been wondering where you ran off to for so long, and then this? You come home, dye your hair, start dressing different? It’s like some online video of a dog dressed up like a person. Very cute, though not quite the same thing.” 

Shizuo’s jaw clenched tightly around his cigarette, but otherwise, he didn’t take the bait.

Disappointed with the lack of a reaction, Izaya tilted his head. “Ah? You’re not quite listening, are you Shizu-chan?”

“Mm, not really.” Shizuo replied, more focused on his cigarette not lasting long enough. Noticing that smoking may not be the best response, as it was smoked down to the butt in a mere minute, Shizuo put out what remained of it, and opted to take a sip of his soda. The less chances he gave himself to reply, hopefully the less fuel he can feed to the information broker. 

“Ah, it’s rude to eat with your elbows on the table.”

“It’s rude to join people when you weren’t invited.” 

The two entered another silent battle, neither party sure what the other would do. 

Izaya merely watched, fascinated with the beast’s thinly veiled self control. The anger was still there, sure, but watching Shizuo try with every fiber of his being to be restraint? Izaya figured there was only so far that the other could hold out for, and wondered where best to poke at the bear with a stick to do so.

Shizuo made a quick transition from taking loud sips from his soda, smoking another cigarette, to picking at his remaining fries, keeping his attention between his food and his smokes. 

Watching this transition back and forth, Izaya decided where to poke at.

“You’ve got quite an oral fixation. Did you know that?”

“...What?” Shizuo asked, stopping with a fry halfway to his mouth at that moment.

“An oral fixation.” Izaya repeated, tapping the tip of his index finger to his own lips, as though that was the part that caused the confusion. “Ah, I wonder if it’s subconscious? Maybe some kind of desire you have? Something else you really want?”

“...The fuck you getting at?” Shizuo’s eye was twitching, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to keep his composure for, what little of it remained.

“It could be developmental as well? Tell me, Shizu-chan, were you loved as a child?”

“For your _ information fleabag, _I was. And still am, before you make any damn assumptions.”

“Ah, you see, an oral fixation tends to start around one of the first developmental stages of childhood, typically because the child is lacking something.” Izaya explained anyway. “This comes from Sigmund Freud, an Austrian psychologist.”

“Fascinating” Shizuo replied, sounding almost as deadpan as his younger sibling. Shizuo moved his attention back to smoking and eating, hoping this would calm freshly agitated nerves. 

“Freud had a lot of theories about children, most of them involving a sexual realization. I suppose this is a bit of a digression, but it’s relevant, when it’s all laid out. The timeline, that is. See, Freud laid out these various stages for a child’s development, but they all circled back to sexual ideation of one kind or another.”

_ ‘How did I end up in this situation…” _Shizuo wondered, staring at his drink as though it would provide the answers. Shizuo mentally revisited the list of coping skills, picking ones at random.

“The working theory then was that children are attracted to their parents. But remember, Frued was a primary psychologist then, but in the present day, almost all of his theories are discredited, _ especially _ his ideas about child development.” 

_ ‘Count down from 100, no 1,000, no 10,000!” _

“That being said, there’s something to be said about some of his theories. Freud was one of the first to discuss the intricacies of the human mind. Overall, his ‘iceberg’ analogy for the subconscious mind is still a heavily used piece of imagery for the mind.”

_ ‘10,000, 9,999, 9,998, 9,997…’ _Shizuo counted, tuning the broker out to the best of his abilities.

“Humans are interesting in that way! There are layers that they’re not even aware of. Wants and desires, just beneath the surface, chirping in the background but not reachable. Not without a push, that is.” Izaya was becoming more animated in his storytelling. That feminine charm he had, delicate, thin hands fluttering and waving around him, could have been pretty on anyone else. Shizuo took a loud sip from his drink, hoping to convey the fact that he could not care any less about the broker’s monologue. 

_ ‘9,986...wait that’s not right...Shit this is too hard! Something else, something else!’ _

“A push from someone who has an understanding about their behaviors and a fascination with the way those behaviors chain react. But I’m digressing again. So the working theory of the time was that children are attracted to their parents, sexually. The Oedipus complex, born from Greek mythology, was really just that of a perverted, cocaine addicted man with enough friends in his social circle, with their own perverse thoughts of their children, as social standards and morals weren’t _ quite _the same back then-”

_ ‘A scenic beach...blue water...and...fish I guess. Shit this isn’t working either!’ _The vein in Shizuo’s temple was beginning to throb again, and the headache that was sure to ensue would likely last for days.

“-All decided that this was a good enough theory to explain their young, overly controlled daughters outbursts and hysterics, while projecting their own maladaptive thoughts onto their children to justify something they knew to be wrong, but didn’t want to quite give up-”

_ ‘How long is he going to fucking talk for, I can’t- get it together, get it together….focus…’ _

“-Shizu-chan, you’re not listening again” Izaya snaps his fingers in front of the other’s face, causing a jump. 

“Ah, yeah I stopped listening a little while ago,” Shizuo admits, before taking another loud sip from his soda.

“Ahhh,” Izaya whines. “Figures as much. I’m kind enough to educate a neanderthal and you don’t even have the courtesy to listen. Don’t worry, I remember almost everything I’ve said! I’ll start over. I’ll even try to get the inflection the same so it will be like you didn’t miss anything. Oh, do you know what the word ‘inflection’ means? It’s the way that a person’s voice-”

_ ‘How did I end up in the situation…” _

An alarm set on Shizuo’s phone, a reminder of when he would need to leave for work, interrupted Izaya’s explanation, and could not have come as more of a relief to Shizuo. “Thank fucking God,” he muttered beneath his breath. “Listen, uh, I would love to say this has been fun, but it hasn’t and I have to go.” Shizuo stood abruptly, grabbing his tray and made his way to the exit. Another cigarette, a walk to clear his head, and idea of idea of working as never been such a relief.

That is, until Shizuo noticed the fur trimmed coat bouncing alongside him. Izaya skipped in step with Shizuo. 

“Ahh, where are we going, Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo stopped in his tracks. 

“_ We _are not going anywhere. Piss off.”

That cheshire grin widened. _ ‘Some excitement, finally.’ _

But the standoff that Izaya was waiting for never ensued. Shizuo turned on his heel and set back on his path. The broker fell back into step after a moment, and caught up with ease. Watching the aggravated face of his rival, Izaya hummed, intentionally obnoxious, skipping and stepping and acting as a child in any way he could come up with. Shizuo didn’t take the bait, though the sound of his teeth grinding could be heard nearly a block away. Once in front of the bar, Shizuo stopped, and finally acknowledged the other again. “End of the line, now piss off.”

A head tilt. “Why’s that?”

Without wanting to respond truthfully, Shizuo opted to doing shoo-ing motions with his hands, as though treating the pest like an actual vermin would suffice. 

Looking between the bar behind him, the bartender in front of him, the dots weren’t difficult to connect. “Ah, a new job? The debt collectors finally fire you?”

Shizuo sighed, beginning to feel defeated again. “I don’t have time to deal with you. So piss off before I throw you all the way back to Shibuya.” An empty threat, Shizuo hoped, and not one that he imagined would work either. Shizuo turned and entered the bar, and prayed to any and every god that existed that Izaya would just _ go peacefully. _

The bar was quiet, only one patron at a table, and two at the bar itself. The woman behind the bar was the only one Shizuo had yet to meet, only knowing that her name was Yomo.

Yomo looked somewhere between Shizuo’s age and Haruki’s, young and certainly beautiful. Her hair was dyed, silver in color with brown roots showing. A detail about her looking like an idol girl suddenly made more sense; her makeup and outfit looked like something that would be done for one of Kasuka’s co-stars, not a college girl attending med school, though Shizuo realized it likely wasn’t his place to decide that. 

“Are you Yomo-san?”

“Heiwajima?”

“Mhm.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Though she looked pretty, her tone and facial expression was very static. She looked at the new recruit with, what felt like, boredom. 

“I-I, uhm, nice to meet you too.” Shizuo bowed to her. 

She merely nodded in response. “Well, come around and I’ll get you set up. We have to teach you to use a tablet right? Haruki mentioned you’re not good with tech…”

Embarrassed, Shizuo groaned. He came around the bar side, and removed the black hoodie, hanging it on the coat rack next to the kitchen door. 

And the ring of the bell above the door echoed like it was a gunshot. 

As Shizuo turned back to face the bar, auburn eyes caught his. Izaya’s smug grin widened as he made himself comfortable, removing his coat and throwing it across the bar to Shizuo. 

“Hang this up too, while you’re at it.”

Fearing that throwing the coat back at the broker would be too much of a trigger for old habits, Shizuo did as he was asked. 

Izaya barked out a laugh in disbelief. “Ha! Good boy, now come make me a drink. I’m thinking something top shelf. Bourbon, maybe?”

The twitch of the bartender’s eye, the shaking of his body, the _ rage _ was becoming too much.

“Heiwajima-san, didn’t you get the memo?” Yomo snapped. Shizuo’s attention quickly turned to his new coworker. “New hires get kitchen duty. Asuhara-san said you have experience, so I’m sure you know how to scrub out a fridge?” Shizuo, surprised to have already earned her bad side, simply nodded. “Well get on it, then.”

Izaya watched in fascination as Shizuo nodded again. Shizuo took the opportunity to get away as a relief, making his way into the back of the kitchen. Shizuo rounded up whatever cleaning instruments he could find and set to making the fridge _ spotless _, in the hopes of getting onto his new coworker’s good side.

In the front of the establishment, Yomo turned to Izaya. Cold black eyes met fiery auburn.

“So. What can I get for you?”

“Ah, I was really hoping for him to serve me.”

“Too bad. You get me. What can I get for you?”

Impatient, and smile fading, Izaya tapped his fingertips onto the bar. “You can get you coworker back out here, for one thing.”

Yomo sighed. “If you’re just here to piss off the new hire, I’m going to need you to leave. We can't have you just loitering in here.”

“Right, because you’re so busy right now.”

“Order something or leave.”

Dramatic, Izaya tapped his cheek with his palm. “I guess I’ll have to come back another time, then.”

“You’d be smart to not come back at all.”

Izaya snickered, something quiet and wicked. “I’ll take my coat back, thank you.” 

Rolling her eyes, Yomo unhooked it and all but threw it over the counter. Izaya reclaimed his trademark, and saluted to her. “I’ll be seeing you again real soon!” Yomo merely rolled her eyes again while the broker left. 

Making sure that the current patrons were all cared for, Yomo went to the back of the kitchen to the fridge, opening it to find Shizuo scrubbing every inch of the walk-in appliance.

“You’re, uh, friend is gone, you’re safe to come out now.” Her voice was monotone, but much softer than their last interaction, surprising Shizuo. He stared at her for a long moment before simply asking “What?”

“Yeah, he seemed like a prick. I just figured this was the best way of getting you away from him. Sorry if I sounded rude to you, but I pretty much told him to fuck off and he left. Oh, I...didn’t realize you didn’t realize you didn’t catch on. Oversight on my part. Sorry.” 

“...Catch on?”

“Yeah, you didn’t have to do this but, uh, it’s coming along really nice. The fridge hasn't looked this good in a long while. Haruki will be impressed. But, uhm, yeah, you can come back up front whenever you’re ready, the coast is clear.”

Dumbfounded, Shizuo struggled to process the idea of an absolute stranger putting on an act of being rude to Orihara Izaya just to help him. 

“Th...Thank you.” 

“No problem. I do still have to show you how to use the tablet though, and we only have four hours." The hint of a smile on her lips, Yomo added "Which I hear is about how long it takes you…"

The physical stress of his anger finally melting, Shizuo sighed, realizing he's not going to live this down any time soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a lot longer between postings than I wanted but listen...I had to make sure I hit all the bullet points on my list for this one. This is the turning point.  
As always, your kudos and comments warm this dead-inside-24-year-old heart more than you can imagine.  
Thank you for you patience, I hope you enjoyed it at least ✌️  
Edit as of 10/25/19: I'm on a temporary hiatus for a teensy bit, I've been having some personal issues and writing while dealing with them was really changing the tone and it's not what I want. Please bear with me, I will be back and the next chapter will absolutely jam packed and really movin'! Thank you guys for your comments, kudos, bookmarks, everything has been really helping me, I appreciate it.  
Peace


	8. Chapter 8

"So you swipe the badge to unlock it, and then you get this menu. You just select the seat number, and then here's how you get to the drink options." Yomo walked Shizuo through the steps of using the bar's register system. The process was primarily straightforward, something doable so long as the mounted tablet wasn't as fragile as it looked. "If someone wants food, that's all under this menu," she demonstrated, "and if they want something special added or something taken off, you do that by clicking the item, and hitting this plus sign. Let me know if I'm going too fast or anything."

"No, this is fine."

"Okay, good. So back here, on the main page, we have every kind of drink possibility, but these are customizable too."

Shizuo nodded, following better than he had expected, though he still would have preferred the old registers he was used to. 

From the tablet to helping customers to the various odds and ends of bartending, Yomo was a thorough instructor. Her rapport with the clients seemed positive, even if she came off as cold initially. The more Shizuo watched her customer service skills, the more he realized she was a polar opposite to the assistant manager. 

But there was some anxiety in that. Haruki was upfront about her opinions on him; he knew where he stood with her. Her energy was almost overwhelming, compared to this robotic personality. 

The excitement, Shizuo recalled telling Tom about, was slowly turning to pure anxiety. 

For one thing, he wasn’t what one would call  _ personable _ . The years he spent as a debt collector didn't require much friendly conversation. Customer service was never his strongest suit, and while he was finding the crowd in the bar to be primarily people his own age, he felt... isolated. Watching Yomo interact with the young crowd, he felt as though he was supposed to be making a better effort to interact with their clientele beyond just taking orders. Yomo was quiet and standoffish until she was serving someone; the idol-like personality would emerge instead. She became everyone's friend, interested in what they thought, how they felt, connecting with them for more than just the time it took to get their card. Watching her go from quiet to social and back to quiet felt like it either side could have been a facade, but it was so seamless that he couldn’t determine which side was the genuine side.  _ ‘It almost doesn’t matter,’  _ he thought,  _ ‘She can be quiet and friends with everyone at the same time.’ _

And Shizuo couldn't. He was polite, sure, but any attempt at interacting beyond what the "responsibilities" listed on his new hire paperwork felt insincere, even to him. 

"Hey, Yomo?" He asked, in a moment of quiet.

"Hm?"

"Do you...like know these people? Like, from when you're not working? Like as friends?"

"Hm? No, not really. Most of them are just regulars."

"So you just...got to know them from here?"

"Mhm." Yomo pointed to a young couple at one of the tables. The boy wore a Raira uniform, while the girl had a noticeable scar across her neck. "They're a high school couple who come here for the food. They've been together for a while now, and like to go on dates throughout the city." Yomo pointed to a familiar looking woman in a green sweater, sitting a few tables away from the couple. She appeared to be watching them while sipping on a gin and seltzer. "I'm pretty sure she just comes in to spy on them? It's weird, but when I asked the guy about it, he said he knew her and not to worry." Yomo then pointed to an elderly man at the end of the bar. "He's an immigrant from Italy, I believe, though he likes to claim he was born in Japan. He's nice though, just a little weird. If you ever need tickets to concerts and events though, he's got some kind of crazy hook up."

Shizuo followed along, not feeling any more confident in his social skills.

"Don't worry, as you get more comfortable, you'll get to know people. We get some...weird characters around here."

Shizuo nodded; that part couldn't be denied, though most of the city was made up of weird people with interesting and fulfilling lives, with friends and families. These people here...they're all a part of that. A part of society, people with  _ purposes.  _ Even Yomo- especially Yomo! A med school student, someone with actual potential, trying to teach someone like  _ Heiwajima Shizuo  _ about social skills and-

"Lady and Gentleman," Haruki's voice broke Shizuo from another self-loathing filled spiral, a dramatic flair in her voice. The woman flung her coat over the bar and onto the floor behind it. Hopping up onto the bartop herself, Haruki flung her legs over and sat atop the counter, facing her coworkers "Let's get this bread."

"Hi Haru." Yomo greeted her.

Haruki gave her a nod in greeted, and turned her attention to the brunette. "How's your first day been?"

"...Stressful." he admitted. 

Haruki gave him a sympathetic look. 

"What going on, big cat?"

The pet name annoyed him, but he simply sighed. "Just...a lot to take in."

"Don't worry, you'll get adjusted. This place feels big at first but with a few weeks, you'll see how small it really is." Haruki hopped off of the bartop and scooped up her jacket to hang on the hooks. 

"I was just pointing out some of the weirder of our regulars"

"Oh, have you met the Italian? He's got the worst Japanese accent. It's really endearing though, I love him." Haruki began to ramble on about some of the more interesting interactions she's had with patrons.

Shizuo sighed, and simply returned his attention to work, cleaning down the bartop and washing glasses. This aspect at least brought some comfort.  _ 'A sense of accomplishment does the body good, _ ' Shizuo recalled.  _ 'Focus on tasks that you know and can do well.' _

-

For the next few hours, there was overlap between the schedule, allowing for both Haruki and Yomo to train Shizuo. The two would take turns showing him some of the unique aspects of the bar, and Shizuo did his best to follow along.

The two worked in perfect sync, moving seamlessly between and around one another. One would start an order, another would finish it. Watching them, it felt comparable to a dance, flowing and perfectly paced. The two almost seemed to read one another's minds, providing what the other needed without a word, through simple gestures. One cuts lemon slices and limes, one runs food orders that had been placed by the other, one would spill and the other would already be wiping the counter space down. 

And then there was Shizuo. Uncomfortable and in the way. The few times he tried to assist the two, he realized he was in their way more than he was helping, disrupting their established pace. Shizuo found himself trapped in the middle of a ballet performance that he was not prepared for, and the more mistakes he seemed to make, the more self conscious he became. 

_ 'You don't belong.'  _ an intrusive thought, all too familiar, crept in.  _ 'You don't belong anywhere.' _

Years of intentional isolation, of anger hiding the crippling loneliness, intrusive, destructive thoughts had convinced Shizuo that he was undeserving of having a place to call his own, that anything close to community would reject him. This was no different. He was too large, too broad, too explosive, too violent and certainly too unworthy of belonging in this place, with these kind and swift, hard working people. ‘ _ Good people _ ,’ he thought, ‘ _ not monsters like me…’ _

Another spiral of self-loathing was broken by Yomo tapping on his arm. "You okay?"

"Huh?"

"You seem...stressed."

"Ahh, first day jitters?" Haruki teased. "It's alright if you're a bit rusty."

"Takes a bit to get back into the swing of things, I'm sure." Yomo added.

Haruki nodded in confirmation as she poured from a tap. "I took a week long holiday once and I swear I forgot how to make like half of the specials we have."

"She's not kidding. She asked me how to make a Jager Bomb."

"You don't need to keep reminding me." 

Dispute their encouragement, it still felt as though he should have it all together, that he needs to prove he's worthy of the chance he had been given. And that he wasn’t worthy of it in the first place; that redemption was for other people, but not him.

Yomo watched him throughout the remainder of her shift with concern. Anxiety seemed to seep into every movement the other made, overly cautious. 

The silver haired bartender found another opportunity when Shizuo seemed to struggle with the register. 

“It’s okay if you need help, you know.” 

“I’m just afraid of breaking it is all...This thing’s easier to deal with than Haruki’s laptop was, at least.”

Yomo chuckled. “Online applications are a pain. I had to fill out so many for med schools. They take forever.”

“I’m sure you’re at least competent with them.”

“I guess that’s true. But...you are allowed to ask for help, you know. We don’t expect perfection here.”

_ 'She's like Kauska.'  _ Shizuo realized. The quiet personality was similar to that of the stoic actor, someone who watches others and seems to be detached, but  _ capable _ , someone who has emotions, but they're not as noticeable to others. Though admittedly, Yomo seems to warm up to people faster than Kasuka. A lot faster. But this realization brought some comfort. 

“...Thanks.”

“Let us know if you need anything. We’ve got you,” she added before returning to the bar to serve a new patron.

-

"Yomo-chan, how much longer do you think you got in this place?" Haruki asked while wiping down the bartop. 

Yomo sipped at a cocktail that wasn't mixed properly and had to be remade. "Few years, probably."

"I'm gonna cry the day you quit."

Yomo cracked the faintest of smiles. The bar was beginning to crowd just as Yomo’s shift was about to end. Yomo began collecting her things, then turned to Haruki.

"Hey, Haru-chan...before I go, I just want to give you a heads up."

Haruki's head tilted to the side.

"There was some weird guy who came in, like, a minute after Heiwajima did. It seemed like he was really only here to harass him."

Harukis head tilted. "That's not cool. Who was he?" 

"No idea, but he's got choppy black hair and a fluffy parka and...he just  _ looked _ like trouble, ya know? I don't know what his deal was, but...he gave me a bad vibe. Real bad. Please be careful, okay?"

Haruki nodded. "I'll keep an eye out. I'm sure I could take 'im if need be." She boasted. 

Yomo chuckled, and shook her head. "Don't think that's your smartest plan yet...I'll see you on Saturday, Haru-chan."

"See ya! Have a good week in class!" Haruki waved as the older bartender left the bar.

While alone for a moment, Haruki let Yomo's warning process a bit deeper.  _ 'Someone coming in just to piss off Shizuo? There are a lot of scary people in this town, but to be scary and brave like that…'  _

-

Walking beneath unfamiliar street signs, Shinra felt as though he may have become lost at some point. Shinjuku was not an area of Tokyo he frequented, and he was beginning to regret not having upgraded to a better data plan, as his phone was not cooperating well enough for him to even look at the map, let alone direct him back to Ikebukuro. Scratching his head, Shinra realized that he must have visited Shinjuku at  _ some point _ , and tried to think back to any landmarks, restaurants, stores, anything that might have stuck out.

“Izaya lives somewhere around here, but I’m realizing I haven’t been to his place since he moved in, how many years ago?” Shinra sighed, and accepted his new life as a nomadic vagabond. 

“Shinra?”

“Izayaaa!” Shinra cheered, head perking up. Perhaps simply saying Izaya’s name aloud was enough for his luck to change. The doctor greeted his long time friend, hugging him tight. “My saving grace!”

“What are you doing out in my neck of the woods?” Izaya asked, while trying to nonchalantly pry the other off.

“Working a job.” Shinra said as he released his grip. “Some high ranking gang members got shot. You wouldn’t know anything about that, I’m sure?”

Innocent smile as always, Izaya feigned hurt. “Me? Why would you accuse me of something like that?”

Shinra shook his head, and chuckled. “Think you can help me get home?”

“‘Course. Though I wish I would have found you a few hours earlier, I just came back from Ikebukuro.” Izaya said as the two started on their way.

“Oh? And what trouble were you causing there?”

“Everyone’s accusing me of being trouble today, and I haven’t even done anything yet…” Izaya muttered, almost sounded genuinely annoyed. 

“The ‘yet’ part is part of the problem there,” Shinra noted.

Izaya huffed, but otherwise let it be. Shinra spoke most of the way through the city, catching Izaya up on all of the details of his and Celty’s romantic life, in more detail than the broker honestly cared for. 

A cool October breeze came through, the chill in the air just barely sneaking its way into the season. Izaya pulled the hood of his hood closer around himself, and made a conscious effort of listening to his friend. Izaya gave few the honest time of day, but Shinra was one of the few humans he’d deemed worthy. For every long-drawn out story, every borderline perverted detail Shinra was comfortable sharing about his personal life, there were acts of genuine kindness. Acts of selflessness, of  _ friendship.  _

Izaya stopped leading abruptly, taking in the scene of the park they were strolling through. Shinra had stopped alongside Izaya, though he continued talking about Celty- making dinner? Can dullahans cook? Can she even eat, Izaya briefly wondered, before being pulled back into his own internal monologue -before the doctor realized his friend was deep in concentration, thoughts somewhere else.

“You alright Izaya?”

"Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Hey Shinra...I've been thinking lately. Do you ever regret having helped me?" 

"Nope," the doctor replied without hesitation.

Izaya nodded, quiet and seemingly thoughtful, as he stepped up onto a neighboring bench, sitting himself on top of the back of it.

Shinra continued. "I don't regret anything I've ever done to help you. That being said, I regret things you've done."

A head tilt from the broker, and a smirk. "Don't quite think you can regret something for someone else."

"If you had a friend like you, you'd know that you can."

Izaya's smirk faded for a moment, before he plastered it back. "Is that so?"

Shinra sat beside his middle school friend, and looked to him with an honest expression.

“I get your whole perspective on people- honestly, I do- but...you can’t always treat other people like pawns, you know?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

"I'm going to be blunt with you, Izaya, because I think you need it." Shinra said. His expression became uncharacteristically stern, his tone serious. "To put it simply, your cruelty is going to be your downfall. Regardless of your intentions, it's going to bite you. And, while I can't say this part for a fact, I really think you will regret it. You don’t have too many allies left."

Izaya took a moment to process his friend’s warning before breaking into a manic like laughter. 

"Shinra, that's  _ priceless! _ "

Shinra, unphased, simply reiterated, "You're cruelty is going to be your downfall. You’re human too."

The laughter died out. The broker’s expression changed to an almost bitter look.  _ You’re human too _ , Izaya scoffed at the mere thought, though he gave little of a reaction otherwise.

Shinra shrugged. “Make of it what you will. I just wanted to give you my two cents. But,” Shinra stood from the bench. “I know where I am now, so if you need to get back home, I understand. You should stop by sometime though! I don’t see you much these days.” 

“...Yeah, maybe sometime soon.”

Shinra smiled. “Can’t wait!” Shinra waved his goodbyes and headed back to his own apartment.

Izaya stayed perched on the park bench for a bit longer, watching his friend disappear into the distance, before glaring at the ground beneath the bench. 

_ ‘You’re human too.’ _

_ Bitter. _

-

“Work Smarter, Not Harder. -anonymous”

Shizuo leaned with his back to the bar, arms crossed, and stared at the decorative sign with a scowl, as though a glare to burn through the message.

“...I don’t like this one.” he said.

“Hm?” Haruki followed his gaze to the sign. “The ‘Work Smarter’ plaque?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t be mad at the sign because you’re an idiot,” she teased, resuming her work of washing the pint glasses.

Gaze not wavering from the sign, Shizuo continued. “Believe it or not, I was not exactly the smartest kid in my school-”

“Shocker.”

“-but my parents, I mean I’m sure they were disappointed, but they were always good to me. ‘It’s fine if you’re not the smartest, so long as you work hard,’” he quoted his mother’s words of encouragement. 

“Well, it was good that they were understanding,” she said.

“Mm.” Shizuo turned his glare down to the ground, lightly kicking at some debris on the floor, mentally noting the bar hasn’t been swept during his shift so far. “Ya know, it’s crazy to think there was a short time that I was considered for advanced placement.”

“You’re kidding.”

Shizuo shook his head. “When I was really little.”

“How little we talking?” 

Shizuo considered it, and lifted his hand to about two and a half feet from the floor. “It wasn’t anything crazy, just that I was good at reading and writing in kindergarten, and they thought I had potential.”

“Yeah, what happened to that?” she asked with a laugh.

“A few too many concussions, I guess.”

“Hi, welcome!” Haruki greeted a bar patron. “What can I get for you?”

While she served their new customer, Shizuo turned over, leaning his elbows against the bar and resting forward. Thinking back to his childhood of hospital visits and bed rest, it was a sudden realization that Shizuo likely spent more of his childhood in a doctor’s care than his home. One concussion after another, broken bones including his skull on two- three? four? -different occasions. 

“You were saying?” Haruki returned to his side. “Hit your head a few times there?”

“That among other things. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I’ve had more concussions than birthdays.” 

“Your brain okay in there?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s around the same time I started having trouble in school. I couldn’t focus on much and I sucked at memorization.” Shizuo said more to himself, as though he were just connecting the dots on why school was difficult for him.

Haruki felt a pang of something in her chest. Something told her that perhaps relentlessly teasing the other was cruel. It was difficult for her to imagine a childhood of frustration and disappointment to be an easy one, and knowledge that he was deemed as having potential prior only made it that much more sour of a feeling in her chest. Lost in thought, the bartender didn’t realize she spilled water onto the floor until it splashed onto her pant leg. “Shit,” she muttered, leaning down to mop up the mess. 

“Ah, oh well.” Shizuo shrugged, before standing upright, set on cleaning up. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Shizuo turned on his heel while Haruki tried to warn him to watch his step. Her warning didn't process until Shizuo was already flat on his back on the bar floor, his head connecting with tile.

Haruki leaned over to him.

“Should we add that to the concussion counter?”

Shizuo scowled at her, then the ceiling before sighing. His shirt was slowly soaking up the water from the floor. Through gritted teeth, he muttered out “Guess so.”

-

“Well my bar’s still standing so I’m assuming your first night’s going alright?”

Shizuo looked up from the pint glasses he was drying off and nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

“Don’t ‘ma’am me,” she muttered, before moving onto her request. “Well, I’ve decided I want to see if your references really are reliable. Care to make me a drink?”

Shizuo nodded again. “What would you like?”

In the background, Haruki set her phone to the bar’s radio, and selected a playlist. The sudden boom of heavy bass startled Shizuo and Asuhara.

Asuhara sighed. "Dealers choice. Just make it strong." She muttered.

Shizuo nodded, and looked to the shelf for inspiration, considering his options. Something strong, but would impress his new boss…

Shizuo decided that something simple but well done should do the trick. Surveying the different options, Shizuo collected five bottles and a metal shaker. With the cap of the shaker and careful precision, Shizuo poured mixed shot sizes from each of the bottles, added ice, and sealed the shaker.

“You ever break any of those?” Asuhara asked while he shook the mixture, genuinely curious how much collateral damage she should start factoring into her budget.

“Plenty.”

A bitter laugh from the older woman as she accepted she would need to double whatever number she hadn’t picked yet.

A slow pour into a pint glass, and garnished with a lemon wedge, Shizuo gently pushed the glass to her. 

“A Long Island Iced Tea?"

“You asked for strong.”

“That I did,” she agreed as took a sip. She gave a slight surprised expression, swirled the glass, and took another sip. “How much cola do you add?”

“Oh, I don’t.”

“You don’t.”

Shizuo shook his head. The longer the woman stared at the concoction, the more nervous Shizuo was he would need to prepare for interviews again so soon.

“...How did you manage to not add a sweetner and have it come out good…” She seemed to be talking more to herself, but the sigh of relief was noticed. “It’s very good.”

“Thank you.”

The beginning of a techno song caused both to flinch again. Shizuo felt the vein in his temple throb in annoyance while Asuhara proceeded to take a long enough sip to finish half of the glass. 

“I’ll be in my office…”

Watching the bar owner recede into the safety of the back office, Shizuo let the interaction sink in. The approval felt like a switch, and he felt his confidence returning, very slowly but surely. If he could impress someone like  _ her, _ who seems to be perpetually exhausted and without time, then maybe things could work out here after all…

The rest of the shift seemed to pass by without a hitch. The bar became more crowded, and the more orders and drinks he was making, the more chances Shizuo to find his own pace to things. Haruki was a vocal coworker, she was clear when she needed assistance, with what, when and how. It was comforting, reassuring him that he belonged. Shizuo had hardly noticed the clock approaching ten, surprised when Haruki started giving clients warning that the kitchen would be closing soon. 

In a moment of calm, Haruki poked at Shizuo’s arm. “Not bad for a first day, right? Things got better?” 

Shizuo nodded in agreement. “Didn’t break anything, so it’s a success in my book.”

Haruki laughed, then handed him a printed out calendar with times listed. “Your schedule. We’ve got you coming in tomorrow for a closing shift, 6-2.” Haruki reviewed the time slots he could be scheduled for; openings were from 1pm to 9pm, closings from 6pm to 2am, and mid shifts typically between 4 to 10 like tonight. “We’re closed on Sundays, and we close earlier Monday through Thursday, kitchen closes at 9 instead of 10, last call at midnight instead of 1.” 

“Got it. Thanks again for everything. I really appreciate all that you’ve done to hel-”

She waved him off. “Don’t start getting sappy on me. Go clock out, get outta here. Enjoy your evening.”

Shizuo smiled and nodded to her as he left. 

“Oh, and Shizuo!” She called after him. Shizuo looked at her over his shoulder. “You’re stuck with me all week, by the way!”

“Lucky me...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dad has always boasted her can make an LIT without soda and have it taste just like iced tea. Conveniently, whenever I ask what the secret is, we can't remember if it's more tequila, more gin, less rum, etc. I'll just assume Shizuo knows the secret, but I also assume he's like my dad, "I swear I know it! I just have to be the one making it!"  
We off hiatus for now. And as always, your kudos, comments and bookmarks are incredibly kind and considerate and I thank everyone who's made it this far. Thank you, really. This has become a coping skill for me, and for other people to enjoy it too is incredibly honoring.   
Thanks fam


	9. Chapter 9

One alarm, set to "snooze" only once. A schedule, that thankfully didn't start until later. An impatient calico swatting at the brunette. Shizuo sighed.

_ Deep breath, and then another. _

Sitting up, Shizuo rubbed his eyes, and picked up the piece of paper with his schedule listed. 

His first week had gone by quickly, and by the end of it, Shizuo was back in full swing. Closing tonight, mid shift tomorrow, opening, closing, closing then off until next Monday. 

Dropping the paper back onto the ground in exchange for his cigarettes, Shizuo started going through the motions of his morning routine, his calico at his heels.

Scooping her up, Shizuo placed her on his shoulder. Part of their morning routine has been for her to stay perched on either of his shoulders while he made them breakfast and in return, she would rub her face against his appreciatively.Having something so affectionate took some adjusting, but Shizuo found himself grateful that she chose to come home with him.

Getting ready for work was more challenging, as the calico was often insistent on keeping him company, while also attempting to use everything in the bathroom as a toy. 

Shizuo had to fight a competitive paw to rinse his razor beneath the running sink water. 

“You’re going to get hurt if you don’t knock it off,” he warned, scooping her up and placing her on the ground. She accepted the challenge and hopped back onto the vanity, swatting again at the water. 

“You don’t even like the water.”

The calico perched herself on the very edge of the bowl of the sink, and watched Shizuo, waiting for him to attempt to use the sink so she could strike first. Once he did, she aggressively struck out, but slipped and fell into the sink. Startled by the water pouring onto her, she bolted from the sink, bounced off of Shizuo and ran out of the bathroom. 

Slightly annoyed by her, Shizuo took advantage of this small victory against her and finished getting ready. Once ready for work, he patted the critter on the head, receiving a glare in response. 

A soft smile and a head tilt, Shizuo said “Not my fault you fell in. Now behave yourself, I’ll be home late.”

_ Mrrrr _

“Don’t give me an attitude. Alright, I’m out. Night, little guy.”

-

Tonight’s shift started easy enough. Shizuo would be working with Yomo again.

Over the past week, the two grew more comfortable with one another, and Shizuo was beginning to like working with her just as much as with Haruki. 

A quiet,_ peaceful _ afternoon. Casual atmosphere, some soft pop was playing that Shizuo’s never heard before but was comfortable enough to work to. The bartender found himself in conversation with a few of the regulars he was beginning to recognize, and realized that Haruki and Yomo were right, all it took was some getting used to. Shizuo briefly thought to himself that ' _ things couldn’t be better.’ _

-

From across the street, the broker’s cell phone rang. Izaya answered while watching silver and brunette through the window.

“_ Izaya, hey! I was wondering if you wanted to come by tonight?” _ Shinra offered. _ “It’s game night, but everyone seems to be busy! Anri and Mikado have exams coming up, Shizuo’s working, so would you wanna come by?” _

Izaya watched the aforementioned bartender with a grin. “Sorry, Shinra, turns out I have plans too.”

_ “Aw man! We’ll have to plan something for a night everyone’s free.” _

“Yeah, we’ll have to.”

Izaya returned his phone to his pocket, and spent a few more moments watching the bar from a distance. Shizuo wasn’t in the front anymore, but Izaya already had the bartender’s schedule. There’s no rush, he’ll be there all night.

-

The ring of the bell above the door signaled trouble. Mischievous red eyes scanned the bar, and locked into Yomo's. The woman glared back, annoyed at the sight of the unwanted pantron. 

Izaya settled himself at the bartop, draping his coat on the back of the high top chair. 

"Well, welcome back. Gonna order something this time?"

"Now, now Otakani-san, is that any way to treat a customer?" 

Hearing her family name spoken, Yomo tensed. 

"So," Izaya continued, "Have you banished Shizu-chan to the kitchen again, or are you going to let him do his job this time?"

Black eyes narrowed as the college student tried to gauge the broker’s intentions. 

"Told you last time, you get me."

"Real shame."

"Sorry to disappoint."

The broker’s smirk widened. "Speaking of disappointment...It must be _ disappointing _ to always be the second choice."

"...Excuse me?"

"You've worked here for three years now, but when the opportunity for a promotion came up, you lost out to some punk who's only been here a year now, and barely works hard to begin with. But you must be used to that, Otakani Yomohara-san, right? After all, you've been second best in everything else you're whole life?”

A quiet noise, almost a gasp, escaped past Yomo’s lips.

“Second highest exam grades, second in your class, vice president of the debate club, silver medal in track...and, if I've got this right, you're not even the favorite daughter. Real shame, considering you're the oldest and your sister's a bully at Raira these days…"

Wide eyes, Yomo's entire body froze as an absolute stranger recited her life to her.

"How…do you know all this? Did you really go home last time so annoyed that I wouldn't let Heiwajima-san serve you that you _ stalked me _?"

"Stalked you? Please don't flatter yourself so much. As for how I know all this, well it's kind of my thing. So, I'll ask again, are you gonna get your coworker up here to serve me or what?"

An uneasy, shaky breath, Yomo tried with all her might to sound confident in her response. "For your _ information _...Haruki was the most deserving of the promotion."

"Hm?" 

"She comes off as someone who goofs off, but she works harder than anyone I've ever met. She's airheaded, sure, but she's kind and hard working and she cares about this place more than either of us other bartenders did. She has a good heart and-"

Izaya stared at her for only a moment before erupting into laughter. His response turned Yomo's face red, cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

"Well, Otakani-san, I didn't know it was quite like _ that _but it makes a bit more sense now, doesn't it! Why you're not quite up to par on everything else? Guess some self-loathing you've got has been sabotaging you. But it makes a lot more sense, putting the pieces together."

The bartender's jaw was clenched tight, fixed shut from embarrassment and anger. 

"Now, now, what a _ scandal _this would cause for you, Ms. Wanna-Be-Idol-Queen. What would your followers think if they knew? Would they still support you?"

"I-I…"

"That follower base of yours, is it as loyal as you think it is? Will they still be interested in you?"

Yomo stood shaking, unable to answer. Izaya laughed again. 

"I'm only teasing you. Don’t worry, your little secret's safe with me. After all, people don't exactly pay top dollar for some second-rate wanna-be's information, so you don't have much to worry about-" Yomo lurched forward, prepared to defend herself, but found herself unable to, unsure of what she could possibly use as ammo against this stranger.

"-and I'm sure Twitter will verify you eventually. Fourth times the charm, right?"

"How fucking _ dare you-" _

"Yomo, calm yourself." Asuhara's voice called from the end of the bar. "Is there a problem here, sir?" She asked Izaya, cool and calm despite the threat to her proud establishment.

"Ah, there is. See, my friend from high school recently got a job here, and I've been trying to come by to support him, but every time I do, your bartender here gives me a hard time."

Asuhara looked to Yomo, noting her bright red expression and glare towards her accuser. She didn't quite buy Izaya's story, but suspicion isn't enough to deny service.

"...You want Heiwajima?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Don't 'ma'am' me, son," Asuhara grumbled. The owner looked between the distressed look on her senior bartenders face, the red glow and the _ anger, _ before sighing. "And, are you the one coming in just to cause trouble?"

"_ Trouble? _What trouble have I caused you? I haven't even been able to get a drink out of this place. But," that smirk widened. "If you're looking for trouble, I do know how to cause it." 

"...Yomo, take over for Shizuo. But, you sir, cause anything, and I will have you thrown out."

"Good luck with that."

The sound of Yomo's teeth grinding regained the owners attention. "Yomo, that was an order." 

"But Ashu-"

"Now."

A hard swallow, and the silver haired bartender disappeared into the kitchen. 

"Any trouble at _ all-" _

"I'll be sure to be on my best behavior."

"That I doubt…" 

From the kitchen, Yomo paced behind the other, frustrated and angry, while Shizuo finished filling the dish sanitizer. 

"Yomo, it's okay, I can handle him. I've been putting up with him for years now."

"How does he know everything about me?"

"What?"

"That prick literally just told me everything about me, like, like, some kind of stalker or something."

"Oh, yeah, he's got a really creepy knack for that shit. Even in high school. I don't know how. He does some kind of illegal work for the Yakuza and shit, selling information and stuff." Shizuo explained as he closed up the appliance and set it to run. "I have no idea how that kind of stuff works."

Yomo was anxiously biting at her nails, hardly hearing her coworker. The broker's insults just repeated over and over until the brunette poked at her shoulder. 

"It'll be fine, I'll deal with him. He gives you any trouble, send him my way."

"I'll send him to the fucking police." She muttered.

"Oh, if only it were that easy…" Shizuo patted her on the top of her head as he passed to go up front. A deep breath, and Shizuo stepped out from the kitchen.

Carmine eyes narrowed as a grin spread. 

Shizuo approached his rival, folded his arms and leaned into the bar.

“What do you want, Izaya?”

“Not a very good customer service voice you got there. Ask me again, but nicer this time.”

“...What can I get for you?”

Izaya's laugh was every bit as fury-invoking as ever. “You’re so _ obedient _these days!”

“Ya gotta order something if you wanna stay here.”

“Yes, yes, I got the same lecture from the other one. Now, what’s the most expensive bottle of bourbon you have?”

Shizuo sighed and pushed himself off of the bar counter. "Just on the rocks?" 

"Mm. So, Shizu-chan-"

"Stop calling me that!"

"-we have _ so _much catching up to do."

A glass was pushed unceremoniously towards Izaya. 

"So, where do you run off to for so long?"

"You're really acting like you don't know?"

"Maybe I just want to hear you say it."

"...You couldn't figure it out." It was a guess, but it was plausible. Everything was planned under pseudo names, paid with cash, coordinated with Kasuka's high profile as a cover. Shizuo wasn't considering it covering his tracks, but it may have been that anyway.

"I know everything that goes on in this city."

"So answer your own question then."

"You first."

"No, you."

And the childish bickering began, much to Yomo's displeasure, but overall, Shizuo felt like it was a victory for him.

-

The first hour was insufferable. He wasn’t able to help any other customers without comment or question, complaint or request from Izaya. The harder Shizuo worked to ignore him, the more obnoxious Izaya would act. 

“Shizu-chan, stop ignoring me,” Izaya complained, shaking his empty glass so the remaining ice cubes rattled against it. 

Shizuo’s jaw was locked closed as he poured a beer for another customer. _ ‘Count down from 100, respond to him then…’ _

The sound of Izaya repeatedly knocking onto the bar counter regained his attention. 

_ ‘100, 99, 98, 97…’ _

Unsatisfied, Izaya pushed the glass off of the counter onto the floor behind the bar. “Oops.”

The vein in Shizuo’s forehead throbbed, his eye twitching. “You did that on purpose,” he growled.

“Can you prove that? Either way, I’ll be needing another.”

_ A victory for Izaya. _

-

“-so now they’re both taking classes and they think they can beat me; it’s infuriating.” Izaya was midway through some story about his younger siblings at a martial arts studio. Shizuo wasn’t sure at what point the broker had started telling this tale- he may have blacked out in anger, he did pace around the kitchen for about 20 minutes and didn’t realize it- but the longer the broker sat at the bar drinking, the more Shizuo was able to deal with the never-ending torment of his rival. Shizuo briefly noted that it was like when an alarm starts going off that you can’t disable but doesn’t give way to immediate concern; the sound is grating, but eventually fades into the background. 

Shizuo was leaning against the back counter facing the broker.

“Well, can they? I’d pay to see one of them kick your ass.”

Izaya scoffed. “I taught them everything they know. They need me.”

“And that’s why they’re taking classes now?

“I have better things to do these days. Speaking of more important siblings, how’s your kid brother doing?” Izaya smirked, confident that the sore subject would annoy the other.

A deep breath, _ let it go, _ and then...

"You know, Izaya, you should be nicer to your sisters-"

"Oh, should I now?"

"-because sometimes, when you're mean to your sisters, they become friends with your rival.” He pushed himself off of the back counter. “And sometimes, they come to your rival's 'welcome home' party."

Izaya's eyes narrowed, watching the bartender pull his wallet from his back pocket and produce a small Polaroid. 

"And sometimes, they bring your rival your embarrassing baby pictures."

The red burn from the brokers cheeks was certainly from the alcohol, but Shizuo could swear he saw the color flare darker. Sliding the photo across the bar, Izaya's expression was a cross between aggravation and anger, with a touch of something harder to read. 

"I could kill them both and feel nothing. I'm not disgusting like you and Namie are."

"You could stand still to be nicer to them. And hey, there's a line between liking your sibling and incest." Izaya tried to slip the picture towards himself more, intending to take it, but Shizuo placed a finger on it to keep it in place. 

"You know...I think we need some nicer decorations around here."

Shizuo took the picture back, taking advantage of the lag in Izaya's reactions from the alcohol. Turning on his heel, Shizuo looked to the back wall of the bar above the shelves of liquor. "I'm sure Maki-san would love to bring in pictures of her kids when they were little. We can make this like a thing. You like being a _ trendsetter _, don't ya Izaya?" Shizuo pinned the Polaroid up, while Izaya watched through narrowed eyes and gritted teeth. 

Shizuo took in the broker's reaction with excitement. '_ Can't believe it really was enough to throw him off…' _

Shizuo returned to the bar, and leaned against it on his elbows. He lowered himself down to be face to face with Izaya.

"So...what's it gonna be? Still want to sit here and play this game?"

The mischievous smirk returned. "I'll have another whiskey."

_ A victory for Shizuo. _

-

"Do you… Drink like this often, Izaya?" He was almost becoming genuinely concerned for the other.

"_ Fugoff." _

“I’ll take that as a no.”

_ A victory for no one involved. _

-

“Neh, neh, hey Shizu-chan, Shizu-chan, hey, heeeey!! Shizu-chan, shizu-chan, neh, Shizu-chan, hey-”

“Acknowledge him before I kill him.”

“You act like I would be against that.”

“Shizu-chaaan-”

“Do something about him.”

“What do you want me to do! I can’t kick him out, he keeps ordering drinks, I can’t throw him out for disorderly because he’s only bothering us-”

“Hey! Hey, hey, Shizu-chan!”

“I’m going to stab him.”

“Be my guest!”

Shizuo and Yomo argued back and forth on what to do with the _ incredibly _ intoxicated broker, whom was nearly lying on the bar top, barely keeping himself upright by leaning against the bar. Izaya’s face was flushed red, and he had long since developed a slur.

“_ Shizu-chaaa-” _

_ “What!” _Shizuo finally snapped.

“Stop ignoring me.” Izaya was pouting, chin in his hand to keep his head propped up and flicking crumbs and peanuts at the bartender with his free hand.

Shizuo balled his fists at his sides and took a shaky, agitated breath through gritted teeth. “For the last _ fucking _time, Izaya, I’m working. You are not the only person here. And knock that off! I’m going to have to sweep all of these up at the end of the night!”

Another piece of garbage, this time a rolled up straw wrapper, was flicked at Shizuo. “I’m _ bo-o-ored. _ You’re no fun anymore. _ ” _

“Then go home, for fuck’s sake. Go somewhere else. I think Shinra’s having another one of those game nights, why don’t you go bother them?”

“I wannanother drink.”

“Hell fucking no.”

"_ Shizu-chaaan!" _

Shizuo began to hope that the constricting pain of his blood pressure rising would be enough to kill him tonight.

-

"Oi, Izaya, get up."

At some point in his intoxication, Izaya all but passed out on the bar top. Hearing his name, the broker groaned and made some effort to pick his head up, already pounding and agitated by lights and noise.

"Izaya, we're closing soon. You gotta get out of here." 

"Howmahgungetome?"

"... What?"

"Howmeye gonnahethome" he tried again, already laying his head back onto the bar.

"Oi, up, get back up. The fuck you trying to say?"

"Howam I gonna get 'ome?" 

"I don't fucking know, guess you didn't plan on getting shit faced tonight?"

"Mm-mm," Izaya shook his head, though his eyes screwed shut in pain immediately after.

"Well, you can't stay here."

"Namie drives."

"Cool, call her." Shizuo suggested while he took pieces of the drains apart to clean out. A cell phone was slid towards him. "Not uh, I'm not doing it for you."

"Shizu-chaaan…"

"No."

"Shizu-chan, Shizu-chan, shizu-chaaan.."

"Ya know what? If it gets you out of here, fine. What's her name again?"

"Yagiri in macontacts"

Shizuo searched through the phone until he found her name and called. He wasn't even sure what he was supposed to say to this woman, but Shizuo also wasn't sure he could restrain himself from assaulting the broker any longer.

"Orihara? Do you have any idea what time it is? What do you wa-" a rightfully annoyed woman spoke.

"Hi, okay, so uhm, I'm not Orihara, my name's Heiwajima Shizuo, and uh, okay so Izaya is, well, he's very drunk right now and I was hoping you could come pick him up?"

"...Wanna run that by me again?"

"My name is Heiwajima Shizuo, I'm a bartender in Ikebukuro, and Izaya is passed out drunk and it's closing time, can you please come get him?"

A bitter, annoyed laugh rang through the phone. "Listen up Heiwajima, I'm off the clock, he's your problem now."

"Yeah, but-"

"You're normally trying to kill him, right? Do me a favor and have him sign my next few checks before you do." The call was ended immediately after.

Shizuo sighed and slid the phone back in the direction of the semi-conscious broker. 

"The fuck am I gonna do…"

-

"Quit squirming around." Shizuo instructed, the vein in his temple protruding. 

Izaya tried to cling desperately to the taller man, though in his drunken state, his coordination and strength we're not what they normally are. 

Why he didn't just leave the broker on the street side, he wasn't sure. Why he decided to bring him back to Shinjuku? Why carry the broker on his back? Well, that last question was because every two or three steps, Izaya would either stumble into something or become distracted, and Shizuo was not in the mood to wander Tokyo at 3 in the morning. It was easier to keep him on a short leash if he was being physically carried by the other.

The walk to Shinjuku was longer than Shizuo remembered, though admittedly, the last few times he'd come to visit the broker, he was blinded by rage and had blacked out most of the walk. 

Tonight was more of an irritation. Izaya was moaning, whining and drooling into the back of his sweatshirt. Izaya was tired and barely keeping himself up, meaning Shizuo had to hold onto him to keep him upright. Shizuo considered throwing him over his shoulder, but worried that being upside down to any degree would make the broker nauseous. Vomit was the last thing Shizuo needed right now. 

Approaching the building he recognized as the broker’s home, Shizuo felt some semblance of hope as he brought the broker to his apartment door.

“Oi, Izaya, what’s the code?” An unintelligible string of sounds was muffled by the bartender’s shoulder. “Izaya, the code.”

Propping his chin on top of the bartender’s shoulder, Izaya stretched over and punched in six digits onto the keypad, greeted by a chime and green light. Prying the door open, Shizuo stepped into the luxurious penthouse style suite. Fancier than he would ever be able to afford, for that much he was certain. 

“You can get down now, ya know.”

Izaya clung tighter to the bartender instead.

“Get _ down!” _

Izaya merely whined. Shizuo looked to the ceiling, hoping to see through it to the higher power that placed him on the Earth, hoping to bargain for mercy. 

“...Where’s your room.” It was a question, though it didn’t come out sounding like one.

“Roomisubdastares” Izaya weakly pointed towards the stairs to the second floor of the suite. 

A deep sigh. Climbing the stairs with the broker in tow, Shizuo was able to pick out which of the only two rooms was meant to be Izaya’s. Like everything else in the apartment, it was _ neat _ but this one slightly lived in. A pile of neatly folded clothes on the dresser, a laptop on the nightstand, a collection of switchblades and knives on a table. _ ‘Definitely the flea’s room…’ _

“Alright Izaya, down ya go.”

Izaya hit the mattress with a quiet groan in pain. The room spun violently even as his eyes screwed shut. 

"A bit too much whiskey, huh? And brandy. You know...I'm just realizing you pretty much only had dark liquor. And didn't eat...or drink water...How can your stomach handle th-"

Shizuo's question was answered by the sound of the broker violently retching, half hunched over the side of the bed. Shizuo closed his eyes, and gave himself a moment. _ 'Take a deep breath in through the nose, hold for a moment, let out slowly, deep breath in. And again an- nope, nope that smells awful, oh god' _the bartender's eyes squeezed tighter, face turning to a grimace as another coping skill was failing to do the trick.

-

"Do you believe in Heaven, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo had finished cleaning up after Izaya, and managed to convince the other to change out of his day clothes- though Izaya put up a fight when Shizuo attempted to help him. The broker fought against any assistance until Shizuo agreed to turn the other way. _ Modesty, _Shizuo guessed. Now wrangling with multiple layers of blankets and sheets, Shizuo attempted to get the other to cooperate long enough for him to be put to bed and Shizuo to wash his hands of the entire incident. Hearing the broker perk up again, Shizuo genuinely considered the question before answering.

"...Yeah, I do." 

"Do you believe in God?"

"Yeah."

Izaya's head lolled to the side, red cheeks still burning and the room spinning before him. "Let's go to Valhalla, Shizu-chan. You and me, playing cat-and-mouse forever through a warrior's heaven. The way it’s supposed to be."

"The hell you going on about now?" Shizuo asked while trying to lay the blankets over the broker, desperately hoping that if he was buried deep enough, he would have to shut up.

"Warriors can go to Valhalla, if they've earned it. A war in the city that only we can win-” _ hiccup _ “-and an afterlife befitting us..Imagine the glory, the valore..." Izaya's voice trailed off at the end, eyes fluttering closed as though he may be falling asleep. 

Shizuo sighed, and shook his head, trying to retrace his steps that ended him up in this situation. With extra conscious effort to not move the broker too suddenly, Shizuo tried propping up the pillows behind his head.

He was startled instead as Izaya reached up and removed his glasses from his face. His free hand reached to the bartender, the tips of his fingers just lightly, just barely touching his cheek.

"Better…" Izaya mumbled, half asleep but gazing at the bartender from under lashes. 

Shizuo blinked once, twice, before his face burned red.

"G-gimme those!" He snatched the glasses back, replacing the frames in a hope to hide the blush. 

A quiet snicker, Izaya mumbled something that didn’t click in the bartender’s head right away. 

“Go to bed, flea.”

The room still spun, but the exhaustion was finally enough that Izaya was lulled into a comatose like sleep, leaving Shizuo walking home at an ungodly late hour, replaying the last few interactions. 

Better with his glasses off, the soft touch, _ Let’s go to Valhalla. _ The bartender’s walk home was just one question after another without any reprieve. The more he thought the evening over, the less sense it seemed to make. _ It has nothing to do with Izaya _ , he told himself, _ it's because _ no one _ is ever brave enough to do things like that. _

_ Touch starved _was a term he had heard once and tried to repress immediately.

The final nail in the coffin, however, was when the last bit finally clicked as well, just as he got to his own apartment door.

_ “Kasuka ain’t got shit on you.” _

His face burned brighter red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun with this one.  
Thank you so much for the comments and kudos, I really do hope people like reading this. I have to admit, I recently started feeling really insecure about this? I re-read my own writing and it just doesn't live up to what I had in my head. I hope everyone ends up liking the direction it's going in.  
But I'm still having fun with this so we're still moving forward. I was also wondering if, like, beta-ing is still a thing? I am out of touch with the youth.  
Thank you for reading whatever chapter I'm up to at this point, you are all loving darlings and I hope you have a great day  
Peace


	10. Chapter 10

The weeks came and went. October ended, and the first two weeks of November seemed to fly by. The cool breeze became a chill that would greet the city each morning with frost, though apologize with a slightly warmer afternoon. The trees lining parks and streets became bare, but the city never lost its color. 

Falling into a rhythm, Shizuo was finding his place. Working, seeing friends on off days,  _ this is what normal people do. _

_ Normal. _ Something that Shizuo never felt his life could be considered, and to a great extent, still couldn't but it was so much  _ closer. _ Sure, he still had inhuman strength, sure his kid brother was a nationally recognized actor, sure his best friend didn't have a head on her shoulders. Ikebukuro was never a normal city but the past month felt like a real attempt.

With just one catch.

Since the evening he spent at the bar, Izaya has become a common fixture. Popping up when least wanted, the broker had a sense for timing like none other. While working, running errands, with friends, Shizuo found himself constantly trying to walk three paces ahead of the other. He could walk faster, but Izaya's voice traveled.

"So what are we doing today, Shizu-chan?"

The grating voice would always chirp once Shizuo felt he might be safe to just  _ enjoy some peace and fucking quie- _

"Izaya, don't you have  _ anything _ better to do?"

"Not until 3."

While having the broker on his heels at all times was an unpleasant fixture, the dynamic was… Different. Whether that was because Shizuo had learned that the broker cannot handle his liquor or something else, he wasn't sure, but he also wasn't willing to think too hard on it. Shizuo consciously repressed the interaction at the broker’s apartment at all costs, blaming the event on poor judgement from excessive intoxication. It didn’t explain his own actions- bringing the other home and caring for him- but those were small details that could be ignored if he tried hard enough. 

What was harder to ignore however, was-

“Shizu-chan! Shizu-chan, Shizu-chan, Shizu- _ chaaan! _ ”

_ "What!"  _

"You didn't answer me."

"Errands."

"Such as?"

"Milk, cat food, bread."

"I assume you meant we'll be buying these."

" _ I  _ will be, unless you're going to be a real saint and start paying my bills for me."

"Wouldn't hold your breath. I didn't realize you had a pet."

"Mm." Shizuo took a sip from his coffee. Izaya had mocked his order as he placed it, obviously disgusted by the sickly-sweet taste the other seems to prefer. 

"Does it hide in fear of you? I imagine it's like a hostage situation."

"And you'd be wrong. He's an asshole like you."

"Cute. And his name?"

Shizuo first glared at the other, cautious about his intentions, until a realization came to him.

The calico didn't have a name. Since taking the critter in a month ago, he never considered the fact that he  _ never named it. _

He scrambled to think of something to answer, embarrassed to admit that he's coexisted with another loving thing while only addressing it directly.

"...C-Carton."

"...Carton."

"Mhm."

"That's what you're going with."

"We both like milk. Milk carton?"

"No, no I got what you meant, I just thought you'd want the opportunity to rethink that one."

"Carton."

"You're somehow dumber than you look."

Shizuo let out a low growl of annoyance, not able to disagree but feeling annoyed nonetheless. 

The pair walked through busy shopping centers and stores. Izaya was overall quiet, mostly scrolling through his phone a pace or two behind the bartender. The past few weeks, Izaya would spend every other day or so finding and berating Shizuo, following him around and making comments here or there; comments that were innocent enough, had they come from someone else. Izaya was searching desperately for a lapse in the other’s self control, a sore subject, an offending topic,  _ anything  _ that would get a rise out of him, but so far, had come up empty. Occasional snaps and empty threats were the closest he had gotten, but it wasn’t enough.

As they walked from the grocery store, Izaya scrolled mindlessly through various apps, until a story popped up, one of paparazzi pictures on a news article, entitled  _ ‘Hanejima Yuuhei spotted with possible new girlfriend.’  _ The article was mostly speculation about the actor’s love life, but one of the photos was a shot of the young actor from behind. Izaya held his phone up, comparing the picture on his phone to the bartender walking a few paces forward.

_ ‘Close enough.’  _

Izaya slowed down, letting the crowd pass around him, and kept a controlled distance from Shizuo. The crowd, the distance, the surroundings, all of the conditions had to be just right. He watched and waited for an opening, which came when Shizuo briefly stopped to look at an advertisement in a store window.

A light change of his pace, a quick skip to close the gap.

“Excuse me, excuse me!” Izaya chirped, waving his arm wide to catch attention. Shizuo looked at the broker, eyebrows knitting closer in confusion. 

“Ah, I’m so sorry to do this to you,” Izaya continued. “I mean, I’m sure it happens a lot, but I don’t mean to bother you.”

“The hell are you talki-”

“It’s just, well it’s my little sisters’ birthday coming up, and they’re just such big fans of yours, Hanejima-san. I don’t mean to trouble you but, could I get an autograph for them?”

“Hanejima?” a voice from the crowd asked.

“Like the actor?” asked another.

"Yuuhei?" and another.

Shizuo face changed from confusion to outrage. “What the  _ fuck are you doing? _ ”

Izaya feigned surprise, then hurt. With a hand to his chest, he replied “I-I’m so sorry! I’m just a big fan of your work is all, and my sisters, they just really love you.”

The crowd was beginning to circle around the pair. Shizuo glanced around, feeling the heat of his anger creep up his neck conflict with anxiety. 

The idea of Shizuo ruining his brother’s reputation would have to be enough for him to maintain his control, he decided. With tightly balled fists at his sides and a gripping pain in his chest, Shizuo took in a shaky breath before deciding it would be best to play Izaya’s game.

“I’m sorry,” Shizuo said through gritted teeth, putting excruciating effort into sounding genuine around a locked jaw. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. But you’ve got the wrong guy, I’m his older brother.”

Izaya tilted his head. “His brother? I...thought his brother was that guy with badly bleached hair and a bartender getup?” He struggled to hide the grin as he watched Shizuo’s nose flare and his teeth grind. “Yeah, I remember reading something about him! He was some super scary guy in the Dollars until early this year, he just vanished. I thought he died or something, but...you’re saying that’s you?”

“That’s me.” Shizuo managed to reply.

“...For an actor, that’s kind of a weak story to avoid fans, don’t you think?”

The murmurs of the crowd couldn’t be distinguished, but the atmosphere was shifting. The young girls in the crowd waited, desperately hoping for a confession, that  _ surely _ this man who looked so much like Yuuhei really was him, and this was their opportunity to meet him. Their boyfriends waited to threaten the actor’s life for stealing their girlfriends away. Izaya waited for the facade to snap and for Shizuo to throw the nearby stop sign his way, ready to run at a moment’s notice.

And Shizuo waited for his heart condition to kill him already.

“...I told you, I’m not Yuuhei. Yuuhei’s out of the country right now, filming for part six of the Vampire Ninja series.”

Izaya merely smiled as various girls from the crowd stepped forward to approach Shizuo. Shizuo held his hands up defensively, trying to keep a healthy distance. 

“Yuuhei!”

“Yuuhei, Yuuhei, over here!”

_ ‘Bad, bad, bad, bad, this is bad’  _ Shizuo panicked, looking for any out he could find. 

_ ‘Can’t run from every situation, but I think today can be an exception.’ _

The chase began as around a dozen fans of the actor tried to be the first to reach the mistaken bartender. Shizuo bolted through the streets, only attracting more attention as he pushed and brushed past any one who blocked his path, with fans screaming his brother’s stage name behind him. 

The broker merely watched the chase unfold, disappointed yet again.

-

After running twenty blocks- thirty? Shizuo hadn’t started paying attention to where he was until the exhaustion set in -he realized he had finally lost the party. Leaning against a brick wall, Shizuo desperately tried to catch his breath. One bright side to years of chasing the flea around the city was endurance. His return to Ikebukuro was the first time that he felt physically tired out. There was a brief moment where he wondered if the mental energy he had to put into restraining his anger was responsible.

“Shizuo?” Kadato said, “You alright man?”

“Ka...Kadota, hey,” Shizuo managed between pants. “Yeah, I’m..fine, just had to...outrun like fifty teenage girls.”

“Becoming quite the lady killer, huh?”

“No, no!” Shizuo waved his hands in front, defensive. “They thought that I’m Kasuka.” his breathing finally evened out enough to speak.

“I’m only teasing you, man” Kadota laughed. “The hair looks cool though.”

“I went with it because I thought I’d blend in, but, uh, that didn’t work.”

“You do look like your brother.”

“It’s all that bastard’s fault anyway! I was fine until he pointed it out in front of a crowd.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Izaya.” Nothing bonds friends quite like a shared enemy, and the pair had found this out early on, both earning effeminate nicknames from Izaya within the first year of high school. “Did you fight him?” Shizuo shook his head, earning a supportive smile from Kadota. “You really are getting better then, huh? Well, listen man, I gotta go make sure Erika and Walker aren’t getting into trouble, but I’m glad you’re still doing well. We gotta hang out sometime.”

“Ah, yeah,” Shizuo waved as his friend headed off. ‘ _ Getting better,’  _ Shizuo thought.  _ ‘Is that really true though?’ _

-

On the other side of Tokyo, Izaya paced his penthouse suite, muttering under his breath while Namie worked on her side of the apartment. Today was just another miscalculation, another  _ failure. _

Izaya looked over the chess board, frantically searching through the pieces, desperate to find his mistake. Which piece was the offender? Which one was moved incorrectly? Which one held the secret to the brute's self control and which had to be destroyed? 

Weeks of unsuccessful attempts was wearing on the broker, and the longer his rival acted  _ human _ , the less he could handle it. 

Because Izaya's dear  _ Shizu-chan  _ wasn't a human. Not one of  _ his _ precious humans at least. He was a monster and only to be treated as such. 

And this facade was a slap in the face, an insult to the human race which Izaya loved so dearly. A monster hiding among them, no better than a wolf in sheep's clothing.

And Izaya wasn't sure how much longer of this game he could take.

Reviewing the chess board, Izaya only felt more angry. All of the moves seemed right, the pieces symbolic for the city all seemed like they were in just the right place, moved at the right time, but here he was. In a final fit, Izaya upended the board and flung it off of the table, pieces scattering across hardwood floor.

"I'm not cleaning that," Namie said without so much as a glance towards the broker.

She may as well have not been there. Izaya stood in the center of his apartment, tapping the side of his index finger to his lips as he became lost in manic thought. Looking down at the upended board, it felt clear now. 

It was a different game altogether. Of  _ course  _ the rules won't be quite the same.  _ Of course  _ he'll need to change the style of play. Simple berating was enough before the brute disappeared but if he's not acting the same, than neither can Izaya.

Izaya picked up just the board and a single pawn. Looking over the simple piece, a new plan began to form. 

-

Shizuo sat the the Kisitani's table, head in his hands. Celty poked at the bartender's shoulder, and waited for him to pick his head up. One hand still running through his hair, Shizuo looked at his friend, then at the phone she was holding. Instead of her normal notepad, she showed him a news article, dated only an hour earlier.

_ 'Hanejima-look-alike causes a stir in Ikebukuro' _ , the headline read. Directly below that was a less-than flattering photo of Shizuo desperately trying to escape the teenage girls chasing him. Shizuo sighed.

Celty reclaimed her phone, switching to her notepad.

_ Taptaptap. _

'Rough day?'

"That flea's going to be the fucking death of me, Celt." 

'He's still showing up every day?'

"Pretty much. I don't know how much longer I can really hold out for. he's had me framed for three different murders, convinced a pregnant woman I was going to assault her, and now going after my brother's reputation, and that's all just since last Thursday."

'how does he get you framed for murder so often?'

"I'm afraid to find out. The less I know, the less I can accidentally say in an interrogation. What am I gonna do? I swear he's making this heart problem of mine worse."

'We'll have Shinra do a check up when he gets back from this job.'

Shizuo nodded, realizing that was probably something he should be doing regularly. 

While they waited, Shizuo worried; about his brother, about his anger, about the real possibility that the years of reckless and relentless rage-filled outbursts may have shortened the amount of time he would get to spend on the Earth. Finally he worried if Izaya really would be the one to kill him after all, if not personally, than at least indirectly.

Shinra’s overly cheerful “ _ Celty, my love, I’m hooome!”  _ brought Shizuo back to reality.

Celty dealt with the affectionate greetings, before explaining to Shinra that she felt Shizuo should get a check up while he was there.

“Ah, good idea! Right this way,” Shinra dramatically lead his guest to a makeshift doctor’s office. Medical equipment took up much of the space, allowing only for a folding chair for the “patient” and a small side table for Shinra to use as needed. The tests he could run here were limited, but a run of vitals, a blood sample that he sent Celty out to be dropped off at a real lab, a few impromptu tests the underground doctor felt fit, before he determine the results.

“Well, looking over everything, it looks like you’ve stayed stable, so that’s pretty good. I’m going to reiterate though, I’m not much of a specialist in internal medicine. We probably should get you set up with a real PCP, and a cardiologist, and maybe an endorcrinolog-”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. What do you mean ‘stayed stable?’”

“It doesn’t seem to me like things are getting worse, so that’s a good sign.”

“...Shouldn’t...Shouldn’t it be better?”

Shinra’s head tilted. “I’m...not sure I follow.”

“...B-because I’m not throwing fits and vending machines or fighting punks on the street. So shouldn’t things be better now?”

“I mean, I’m not a specialist, so I can’t really say any of this  _ for su-” _

“ _ Get to the point!” _

“I...The thing is, Shizuo, I didn’t really expect it to  _ improve _ per say, because, well, I...think the damage is already done.”

“...Already done.”

“I...I thought you understood that, I’m sorry.”

“So what was the point of all this?”

“Hm?”

“What was the point? Of holding back, of learning to deal with it, of months of reading and therapy and being away from home, what was the fucking point?”

“‘What’s the point?’ Shizuo, you’re finally living the life you always talked about living.”

“For how much longer though?”

“For longer now than you had in January. No, I don’t think you  _ added  _ time but you’re not dying any sooner either. ‘What’s the point?’ What’s the point of life if it can’t be lived to its fullest? What’s the point, well that’s the very question!” Shinra became animated, until he looked to his friend with his head in his hands, pushing through brown hair while searching the floor for answers. “The point, was that learning to control your temper was difficult, but look at how much better things are now. It’s never too late for people to change for the better. You're improving so much, you've done really well, and now it's finally paying off! So live life to the fullest for as long as you've got!”

An annoyed huff from the bartender, finally picking his head up to look his optimistic friend in the eye. “You’re a pain in the ass, ya know that?”

“I do.” Shinra answered, smiling wide.

-

After leaving the company of Celty and Shinra, Shizuo made his way home. Cigarette smoke trailed him, catching in the occasional breeze that turn the bartenders cheeks red. The days events played in circles.  _ Getting better  _ from Kadota,  _ Staying stable _ from Shinra. By the time he reached his apartment door, Shizuo had already decided that maybe they were both right after all.

Six months and twelve days. That was how long since he had last lost control, since his anger and his body acted on their own accord, since the last time he felt that his only purpose would be to destroy and he acted on it.

_ “It’s never too late for people to change for the better!” _

Shinra’s annoyingly chirpy voice was like a broken record, but maybe the repetition was a good thing. 

Setting up his blanket in the center of the floor, Shizuo sat cross legged in the middle and took a deep breath. Carton, the newly named cat, watched from her scratching tower in comfortable silence. Rolling his shoulders back and hearing a chorus of cracks from various joints, Shizuo then focusing on breathing.  _ Not changing it, just noticing. Noticing how every breath is an affirmation of existence.  _

_ You breathe, you live, you belong. _

_ As my name implies, my desire is to live a peaceful life...and that’s what I’m going to do. Even if it’s not for long. _

-

In the dark alley behind the bar, Haruki struggled to toss the garbage into the dumpster. 

"One, two,  _ three _ ," she braced and hoisted the bag over her and into the dumpster. Haruki was too busy grimacing at the grime left on her hands to hear footsteps approach her.

The glint of carmine glowed from the end of the alley. 

"Are you there assistant manager?"

Haruki brushed off her hands, turning to the person speaking to her.

"Uhm, yes, I am," she said. "Is something wrong?"

A wide grin, spread to display bright canines.

"I'll need you to come with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like the pacing of this again but the show must go on. It's been a rough week, but all of the comments really made me happy, like really did. I was having a hard time today today, but then I saw I had 4 (Four!) comments in my inbox! That's crazy! You guys are very good to me! Thank you so much for everyone's continued support, for your patience and kindness. Bless ya soul.  
Thank you again c:


	11. Chapter 11

The sound of his phone ringing pulled Shizuo from a deep sleep. Scowling at the alarm clock resting beside him, time reading 2:26am, Shizuo answered, nearly growling out a greeting.

“Yeah?”

_ "Shizuo, whatever you do, don't listen to him-"  _ Haruki's voice came through, engulfed in panic.

Shizuo shot upright. "Haru? What's going on?"

_ "Don't come, it's a tr-" _

A brief moment where Haruki's voice cut out, before a familiar voice came through instead.

_ "Evening Shizu-chan." _

_ Why.  _ That was the first question that came to Shizuo’s mind. Repeating over and over,  _ Why, why is Izaya with Haruki, why is this happening? _

_ “Let’s skip the small talk and get to the point! We’re hanging out on the east end of town, and you should come join us.” _

“Izaya, why-”

_ “I’ll text you the address. Oh, and I would hurry. Okay? Bye-bye!” _

The line went dead. 

On the rooftop, Izaya texted Shizuo a location off of Haruki’s phone.

“So you’re like a psychopath or some shit?”

“I’d watch how you talk to me,” Izaya said as he threw her phone as far as he could. He waited for the sound of the phone cracking against the pavement before adding to his warning.

“Once he gets here, I have no use for you.”

-

Shizuo had thrown on the nearest clothes he could grab- sweat pants and a hoodie- and ran as fast as he could manage through the cold to the address sent to him.

The building was decrepit, with boarded windows and caution tape still clinging to the structure here or there. Shizuo’s line of sight followed the building to the rooftop, where they met with carmine. 

Old fury returned.  _ Rage.  _ Shizuo felt his cellphone snap to shards as he hadn’t realized his fist had closed around it.

“You’re dead, Izaya!” 

Anger fueled him, feeding into old habits. Shizuo kicked in the nearest door and broke into the building, searching for the stairs. The building must have had twenty floors or so, but Shizuo hadn’t noticed the signs as he ran up the steps passed them. 

It wasn’t until the twelfth floor or so that a voice chimed in, a conscience in the form of Shinra’s voice.  _ “It’s never too late for people to change for the better!” _

_ ‘No, not now! The bastard’s finally gone too far!’ _

Flashes of the past few weeks, of working with Haruki and Yomo, of Shinra, Celty, Kadota and Tom, of the peaceful life he was living. Then of Izaya, showing up just to ruin everything.

_ “Better,” Izaya's soft voice and hand on his face.  _ Shizuo recalled the broker at a moment of vulnerability.

_ Can people really change for the better? _

_ Oh, this is not the fucking time for this! _

Shizuo sprinted the last few flights of steps as fast as he could, hoping to make up lost time.

A deep breath before this confrontation, and Shizuo tried to remind himself about what was important to him, why this past year mattered. 

Shouldering past the heavy metal door to the roof, a cold November wind hit Shizuo. Izaya sat perched on an old air conditioner unit, one knee crossed over the other and lounging back on his hands. It was the way someone waits for the friend in the park, not someone who kidnaps an innocent person and holds her as bait.

“Well, about time you got here. I was starting to worry you weren’t going to come." Izaya leaned his weight to one side, dramatically clapped his palm to his cheek. "Ah, I should have told you to wear the bartender suit. But, your hair's not blond anymore either so I guess I just have to take what I can get."

Another deep breath, Shizuo searched the rooftop until he found Haruki, back against the building, arms and ankles tied with rope.

“Haru!”

“ _ Watch!”  _ she shouted as three silver throwing knives flashed passed Shizuo and struck into the wall between he and Haruki. 

Izaya held a fourth up, with an innocent smile. “Well, now that you’re here, we can start.”

“Alright, you got me here. Now let her go. This has nothing to do with her, this fight has always been between us.”

“You’re no fun if you jump ahead.”

“She’s got nothing to do with this.”

“Well, not anymore!” Izaya leaned to his side, peering at Haruki from around Shizuo’s form. “Thank you so much for playing, doll. Though, next time, do try to be a better damsel in distress. A touch of crying over the phone would have really gone a long way.”

Haruki’s teeth ground in anger, Shizuo stepped to block the broker’s line of sight.

“What is this, Izaya? No twisted plot where you puppet-mastered your way to the top? You’ve graduated to straight kidnapping? Doing the work yourself?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“And by that, you mean?”

The innocent smile was contorting into a wicked grin instead.

“This is fun, but we’ve got a full schedule for tonight, so,  _ Round One!” _ Izaya was quick on his feet. From his comfortable position, to standing, to leaping forward to the bartender, Shizuo didn’t see the attack. He heard Haruki’s reaction, her scream in fear, before he felt it. A switchblade lodged into his right shoulder, cutting deep right between bone and joint. The searing pain overwhelmed every thought and sense Shizuo had. Between winces of pain, Shizuo followed the switchblade, to the pale thin wrist still connected to it, to the broker before him. Izaya stood, applying pressure to wedge the knife any deeper he could manage, face only inches from Shizuo. 

Up close, these auburn eyes looked so different then Shizuo remembered. The color was the same, reflecting the blood that dripped down his own shoulder. No, it was something else. Izaya wasn’t acting like himself.

The pair stayed like this, Shizuo trying to get a handle on the pain of the blade while Izaya waited. For what, Shizuo didn’t realize at first: Izaya was waiting to be hit. He wanted to be hit, wanted to counter, wanted Shizuo to make the next move. And Shizuo wasn’t giving in to the urge to do just that. 

After Izaya realized he was waiting for nothing, the amusement on his face dissipated away. 

“Fight back,” he instructed, his tone calm.

Shizuo shook his head once.

Izaya removed the knife without warning. The removal was almost worse for Shizuo then the stab itself. Blood flowed from the open wound, staining his shirt down to his wrist.

“Fight back,” Izaya repeated. 

Shizuo grasped at his shoulder, trying to hold the wound closed himself. He shook his head once more.

Izaya circled the bartender like a shark. Shizuo tried to keep face to face, circling with Izaya, fearful that losing sight would end in Haruki getting hurt. 

Without warning, Izaya ducked low and lunged to Shizuo’s leg. This time the switchblade situated itself deep into Shizuo’s left knee, right between bones. Izaya had the precision of a surgeon and the manic look of a mad scientist.

Shizuo’s leg buckled under the pain and he collapsed backwards onto the ground of the rooftop. 

“Round two,” Izaya announced, much less amused. “Why aren’t you fighting back?”

Words were beyond him, there was too much else to handle. A year without fighting had lowered his pain tolerance more than he expected, and the two stab wounds overwhelmed him. Shizuo could only take short gasps in pain.

“The  _ mighty beast  _ of Ikebukuro has fallen off, hasn’t he? This is child’s play compared to what you should be used to.” The annoyance in Izaya’s voice was unmistakable, as though this whole event was a minor inconvenience. "Are you going to fight back?"

"No"

"Wrong answer," the blade twisted with a quick flick of the wrist. 

Shizuo let out a roar in pain.

"You're not allowed to act like this," Izaya explained. His tone was calm but there was a burning through his words, battery acid on the back of his tongue. "You're not allowed to pretend to be human."

"I…" Shizuo tried speaking through gritted teeth, the pain overwhelming his ability to take proper breaths. He sucked in a short breath through his teeth before trying again.

"I-I  _ am  _ human."

"You're not." Izaya stated. "You're nothing but a monster." Izaya tried to pull the switchblade from Shizuo's knee. The blade was situated too tightly in joint and tendon. Shizuo had let out another cry. Izaya gave up easily and released his grip on the switchblade, then sat back on his heels. "I've worked this whole year trying to figure out where a beast like you runs off to, why you come back acting like someone you're not. So tell me, Shizu-chan, are you going to die a liar or a monster?"

Shizuo struggled, but sat up straighter, his shoulder burning as he did so. Shizuo leaned forward, face to face with Izaya. "I'll die the human… And you can live on… As the monster that  _ you _ are."

An unimpressed "hm" from Izaya before producing a different blade from his pocket.

"So be it." Izaya said. " _ Round three." _

Shizuo squeezed his eyes shut in preparation. ' _ So this is really it,'  _ he thought.  _ 'I really am going to die ' _

And while he waited for an inevitable, for a blade to pass through his ribs, Shizuo thought of everyone he cared about. 

_ Kasuka, his parents, Celty and Shinra, Tom, Kadota, Haruki and Yomo and Maki, these people that made this past year worth it. Worth all of the work, the struggle, the headache. _

_ 'Yeah, I knew I was going to die soon, but I finally got to live a life worth living… _

_ So do your worst.' _

Shizuo waited until he heard the sound of a loud hit, like a baseball bat connecting with a ball. But that sound...wasn't followed by any pain.

Shizuo opened one eye to peek.

In front of him, Izaya was hunched forward on one hand and knees, other hand gripping the back of his skull.

Haruki stood behind him, panting. In her hand was a bloodied metal pipe.

"That's for thinking I'm your fucking hostage." She spat, her words saturated with fury. "And this-" Haruki raised the pipe, winding up as far back as she could. "-is for thinking I'm a damsel in fucking distress."

Izaya made the mistake of looking over his shoulder at her while Haruki swung. The pipe connected with his forehead, with enough force to send him flying across the rooftop. Izaya's body hit the ground, rolled and tumbled until the back of his skull collided with a brick wall of the building. 

Haruki stood panting, watching the broker's lifeless form for a moment before turning her attention to Shizuo. 

"Can you run with that?" She nodded her chin to the blade in his knee.

"I-I think so," he managed to respond. Shizuo could hardly take his eyes of Izaya, floored and speechless by the strength the other had. In eight years of fighting the flea, he had never seen Izaya taken off guard, seen him beaten. 

"Then, uh, we should probably start running, in case he gets up." 

"H-how did you…" Shizuo leaned to his side, to peer around Haruki to where she had been at the start of this event. One of the silver throwing knives Izaya had thrown was now above torn, cut rope. 

"Yeah, we can talk about all that later, now let's  _ go."  _ Haruki grabbed his hand, trying to help lift him. Standing was not an easy feat, but it was manageable so long as he kept his weight off of the damaged knee.

A slow, unsteady movement from Izaya brought Shizuo's attention back to the broker. Izaya tried to push against the ground, struggling to pick himself up. 

Against better judgement, and against protests from Haruki, Shizuo took a painful step towards his enemy. A few long, limping strides, and Shizuo leaned down to Izaya. Blood streamed and dripped from Izaya’s forehead. The broker took shallow, labored breaths, grunting in pain as he tried to force himself upright. 

Struggling against his own injuries, Shizuo kneeled to Izaya’s level and just watched. He watched as disoriented and dazed auburn eyes scanned the ground, trying to make sense of his surroundings. 

“Some real irony in that…” Shizuo said. “Getting beat by your own hostage. How does it feel, Izaya?" Shizuo spoke without much thought, just observation. "How does it feel, knowing that you’re going to die up here alone and that you’ve treated everyone in your life so terribly, that the only surprise here will be that  _ I _ wasn’t the one to do it?”

Izaya struggled to pick his eyes off the ground, unable to follow the sound of Shizuo’s voice to his face.

“That’s right, Izaya. I won, and I didn’t even have to fight you. You’re gonna finally get what you deserve. You like chess, right Izaya? Checkmate.” Shizuo forced himself up, and made his best effort to turn on his heel.

“Okay, nice, great, very dramatic, we need to  _ go now!”  _ Haruki reminded him. She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him along towards the metal door into the building.

Adrenaline became Shizuo’s saving grace, the only reason he was able to make any distance through the building and down the flights of stairs. His heart pounding in his chest, and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t seem to be from his impending heart attack. 

_ Excitement.  _

‘ _ I really did it.’ _

A few floors of steps down, and Haruki called over her shoulder to Shizuo, asking if he was handling his injuries alright.

“Yeah, I’ve dealt with worse. Got shot once and managed to get to Shinra’s, this shouldn’t be much worse.”

“You’re insane. What was with that spiel at the end? Trying to one-up your brother’s acting career?”

“Good to know even in a time of distress, you’re still able to make fun of me.”

A few more flights of stairs, Shizuo read a sign for the 14th floor of the building. Feeling his heart and mind race, he tried to focus on just taking careful steps down.

_ ‘Izaya’s going to die alone up there.’ _ Everything about this should have felt like a victory.

So why was Shinra’s chirpy voice still echoing through his mind, Shizuo wondered. Why was the cheerful encouragement of  _ Everyone can be better _ suddenly felt like it applied to more than just Shizuo.

His pace had slowed as he was realizing there was another feeling in his chest, one that he hadn’t expected.

“What’s wrong?” Haruki asked after she noticed him lagging behind. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

“No, no, not really…”

She nodded. “Come on, let’s get you to a hospital. Or maybe straight to a precinct?”

“Precinct?”

“We have to report this, I mean, he literally  _ kidnapped me _ and  _ stabbed you.” _

“Police never help, he covers his tracks well.”

“A little hard to cover up rope burn and stab wounds.”

That was true, Shizuo realized. Any interaction he had with police had felt like a waste, because Izaya normally covered his tracks too well, there would never be a visible connection between him and the crime.

But this wasn’t like Izaya. Even the look in his eyes wasn’t the same. 

Shizuo looked over his shoulder, as though he could look back up and through to the rooftop. While he stood, looking back, he finally identified what this feeling in his chest really was.

_ Guilt.  _

“Why are you stopping? If we hurry, we can probably get police back here in time to have him arres-  _ Where are you going!”  _ Shizuo had turned and started climbing back up the steps. 

“We can’t just leave him there.”

“ _ Oh, we very well can!” _

Going up was much more difficult than going down, but a newfound determination pushed him through. 

If he’s going to change for the better, that meant in  _ every  _ aspect, not just the ones that benefited him. Returning to the metal door of the rooftop, Shizuo pushed through to the outside. Izaya laid where Shizuo had left him, only having his head dropped back to the ground, blood pooled around his face. Slow paced and labored breaths with occasional moans were the only indications that he was still alive at all. Shizuo ignored the approaching shouts and calls in protest from Haruki, and returned to Izaya’s side. 

“Come on, I've got you.” 

-

The walk to Shinra's was agonizingly long. Shizuo could ignore the gasps and stares from strangers, but with each step, Shizuo's knee would buckle, needing extra effort to be put into pushing forward. The broker had been thrown over his unharmed shoulder, which only worsened his limp. 

“This is insane.” Haruki said. “This is absolutely insane.”

“You don’t have to follow me, you know.”

“I need to make sure you don’t die, since you’ve apparently lost your mind.”

Shizuo merely grunted in response, trying to readjust Izaya to keep steady.

Once at the familiar apartment, Shizuo had Haruki knock.

The underground doctor himself answered, taking in the bloodied bartender, infamous information broker and new face with a start, expression dropping from the excitement of an unexpected guest to concern.

"Hey, Shinra,” Shizuo said. “I’ll, uh, explain everything but, he might die."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to have kept everyone waiting so long but thank you to everyone who's stayed so patient with me!! We've got, I think, three more chapters, so we're getting to the end! I'm excited.  
I'm very honored to have people still reading this. I feel like I say this every chapter, but it means so, so, so much to me that you've given me this chance and come this far, so if you're reading this, thank you!   
Lemme know how you're liking it, and what you're feeling! Thanks, fam!


	12. Chapter 12

Shinra wasted no time. He led Shizuo to the spare room, asking various questions along the way about the broker’s injuries. Shizuo laid Izaya down as carefully as he could manage, explaining the blunt force injuries Shinra would have to help fix. Shinra shooed Shizuo out of the room once he felt he understood enough, and set straight to work.

Shizuo let them be, resting on the couch, Haruki following suit.

The longer Haruki sat, the more the shock of the evening hit her, the night’s emotions snowballing and engulfing her. The fear, the uncertainty, the guilt, everything became overwhelming. 

She was pulled from her thoughts at the sound of a slap. Her attention was pulled to Shizuo, pulling at the knife lodged in his knee, then to a woman in a black riding suit and yellow motorcycle helmet.

‘Stop messing with that! Wait until Shinra can take it out properly!’ Shizuo read off of Celty’s phone. 

He huffed. “Alright, alright. I just wanted to see if I could save him a bit of work.”

‘Wait for Shinra.’ She reiterated. Celty turned to Haruki, stepping closer so she could show the younger woman her phone. 

‘Are you okay?’

Haruki read the message, then looked up to her reflection in the helmet above her.

“I...don’t really know.”

_ Taptaptaptap _

‘That’s okay. Shinra will check you over when he can, just in case. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.’

“Oh, um, thank you, but I don’t want to intrude.” Haruki tried to see past the glass of the helmet, to see the face of her host. “Why...are you wearing a helmet inside?”

Celty pulled back, unsure.

“You’ve heard of the headless rider, right?” Shizuo asked, still pushing around the knife. 

“...You’re not serious.”

Celty paused, before nodding in confirmation. ‘Promise you won’t scream?’

“I’m going to be honest, I can’t promise anything right now.”

Celty nodded again. ‘Another time then. You really are welcome to stay.’

"Thank you…"

The three fell quiet, waiting for Shinra. Haruki anxiously rubbed her hands together, unsure of what she should be doing with herself. Shizuo yawned, rubbing at his eyes and picking pieces of torn fabric away from the stab wound in his shoulder. 

“Ah, Shizuo!” Shinra’s cheerful voice finally called. The doctor joined everyone else in the living room, removing bloodied gloves from his hands. “You really did quite a number on him this time.”

“I’d love to take credit, but it wasn’t me.”

“Huh?”

Shizuo pointed his thumb to Haruki on the couch beside him. 

“_ Whaaat!’ _ Child-like amazement, Shinra stared with wide eyes at the woman. “No _ way!” _

Shizuo explained the story, from the phone call to Izaya’s attempts at starting a fight, to Haruki using a metal pipe as a weapon. 

“Just one good-” Shizuo imitated a baseball swing, clicking his tongue to indicate the blow to the broker’s head. “-sent him flying _ at least _ 50 meters."

“You could play for a professional team!” Shinra cheered.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Haruki shook her head, her hands up defensively. “I think it was a heat of the moment thing.”

“Ah, that’s probably true. Oh, I wonder if it was an adrenaline-based ‘moment of full strength?’ You know, Shizuo, it would probably be interesting to see ho-”

“Don’t start. We’re not running tests on her.”

“Running tests?” Haruki asked. Celty put her hand on Haruki’s shoulder, helmet shaking. 

This time, Shinra raised his hands defensively. “It was just a thought. But, alright, let’s get to work here.”

Shinra looked over the switchblade, trying to determine the best course of action. Fresh gloves on, a scalpel and forceps readied, Shinra set to cutting as little tissue as needed to pry the blade out. Shizuo's face contorted into a grimace, wincing occasionally though he remained still and quiet so Shinra could work. 

"So will- _ ah that hurt _\- will, uh, he be okay?" Shizuo asked, nodding his head towards the hall where the informant rested. 

"He needed quite a few stitches, and definitely has a TBI," Shinra explained, focused on his work. "It's going to be a while before he's good but I think he'll be fine."

Shizuo nodded, then flinched in pain as Shinra managed to pry the switchblade out. 

Shinra looked the weapon over before placing it on the tray, moving on to stitch the injury.

"Has he seemed...off to you, recently?" Shizuo asked.

"A bit." Shinra was halfway through stitching the wound closed, admittedly struggling due to the joint. "He was very nostalgic the last time I spent time with him, which isn't very like him."

Shizuo nodded again. The room fell quiet as Shinra focused on Shizuo's injuries. After putting the final stitch in the bartender's knee, he moved up to the deep gash in his shoulder.

Shizuo kept glancing down the hallway, waiting, though for what he wasn't sure. Izaya wasn't going to be up and walking anytime soon. The guilt in his chest was eating at him, regardless of Shinra's assurance that the broker will be okay. 

Shinra finished sewing the gash shut, and looked over his work. When he felt confident his work on Shizuo was done, he moved on to the other bartender. Shinra kneeled in front of Haruki, and asked if he could look over her injuries. 

Uncomfortable, she agreed. Shinra took her hands gently in his own, turning them over. 

"Well, you're definitely going to be bruised for a bit, which unfortunately I can't do much for," he explained about the purple lines already forming around her wrists. "Icing them may help though." Haruki nodded. Shinra explained that the case would be the same for her ankles, and asked if Izaya had done anything else to hurt her. Haruki shook her head. "That's good news, at least. I'm sorry for the ordeal he's put you through."

"It's not your fault. Thank you for all of your help. I'm sorry for us intruding."

"No, no, don't worry," Shinra assured. "It wasn't the first time Shizuo's shown up at my door bloody and battered late at night, and I'm sure it won't be the last."

Shizuo huffed in annoyance. Haruki bowed to the underground doctor, and thanked him again. She then stood and prepared to leave. 

"Ah, I'll walk you home." Shizuo offered.

"Are...you in any shape to do that?"

"Probably."

"Shizuo's built like a tank," Shinra added with a nod in confirmation. "For a normal person, I would say something like 'No, absolutely not! You're confined to bed rest until further notice!' but being that I've known Shizuo since we were kids, I'd gamble that his leg will be fine within the week. Do try to be careful on it though, Shizuo. I really don't feel like re-stitching it." Shinra added the last bit for his friend directly. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill…" Shizuo muttered, rising from the couch and testing his knee. The pain was mild compared to hours before. He would likely have a limp for the next few days, but Shinra was right. It would likely be fine in no time. 

Haruki begrudgingly agreed to let Shizuo escort her home.

The pair thanked their impromptu hosts, thanking them for their help, and walked through the cold, early morning November air. Shizuo dug into his pocket for his cigarettes while Haruki shivered in response to a harsh wind. 

The walk was quiet, uncomfortably so. Shizuo was dense, but adept enough to realize the other was uncomfortable with his presence. 

"So, uh," Shizuo tried to break the silence. "Crazy night, huh?"

Haruki looked at him with bewilderment, then set her eyes back on the path ahead, focused only on getting home. Haruki didn't speak again until she stopped in front of a building with University signs in the windows, explaining that this was her dorm building. Shizuo nodded and wished her a good night.

"Hey, uhm, can you do me a favor?" Haruki asked. 

"Yeah, what's up?" 

"I'm supposed to open today. I just...don't think I can do that. Can you take my shift?" 

"Yeah, 'course." Shizuo agreed.

"Thanks...see ya around." Haruki climbed the steps to her dorm building, gave Shizuo a quick wave, and disappeared into the residence, leaving Shizuo to walk to his own apartment complex with some healing injuries and a buzzing mind.

-

Rubbing his shoulder, Shizuo leaned his back against the bar. The opening shift he took for Haruki had been slow since the start of his shift, which had only given him ample time to overthink. 

He stared up at the Polaroid pinned to the back wall, to the innocent image of his long time rival before they had ever met.

What would have happened, Shizuo wondered, if he had given Izaya a proper chance? How would things have played out if Shizuo's first words to the other were something other than "you piss me off," if they hadn't fought in the field of the high school, or any of the other times after that? What-if scenarios played over and over, what could have been. 

His conclusion, overall, was that Izaya and him still wouldn't have been friends. They had nothing in common, he thought. Izaya was clever, devilish, manipulative and cunning. 

And Shizuo, he felt that he was just angry and strong. His what-ifs all ended with him being used for power, braun to the broker's brain, and none of those situations sounded like it would have led him down a better path than the one he was on now.

But the guilt wouldn't leave. The festering feeling burrowed in the center of his chest demanded his attention. The more he tried ignoring it, the more often he saw the dazed and lost look on Izaya's face when on the rooftop. 

"Excuse me?" A customer asked from over his shoulder. 

Shizuo jumped, startled, and turned to face the patron. "Sorry! What can I get for you?"

-

At the Kishitani's, Izaya's healing was a process of confusion, disorientation and _ fear _. 

Izaya would wake from a restless sleep, and immediately be greeted with a headache and ringing in his ears. He would eventually try to push himself upright, struggling as his head didn't seem to feel capable of resting on its own. 

Upon hearing the broker stir, Shinra would come in to check on him. Each time was the same, Shinra would run some basic orientation checks. A flashlight would pace over the broker’s eyes, which would immediately screw shut in pain. Shinra would move on, asking questions like "Do you know your name?" "Do you know where you are?" "What are your sisters’ names?" "What high school did you go to?" and so on.

On the first day, Izaya struggled to answer anything. 

"It's okay, take your time. What's your name?"

"Ori…" his eyes screwed shut in pain, the ringing became deafening. The room spun. Everything became too loud, too close, too overwhelming, and the broker would end up nauseous and sick. 

Shinra would pat his friend’s shoulder, rub small circles between his shoulder blades while he violently retched. Shinra would sigh, and try to assure Izaya that he would be okay.

But once he was finished vomiting, Izaya would be exhausted, tired from the short ordeal, and would fall back to sleep.

This cycle repeated every few hours on the first day, and again on the second. It wasn't until the third day he was oriented enough to properly answer a question.

"How old are you?"

"...twenty four." 

Shinra nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Do you remember when your birthday is?"

Izaya's eyes scanned the bed for the answer, bits and pieces of it coming together, but the cycle completed just as the previous day's did. Shinra's sigh held a bit more hope this time. "That's okay. You're getting there."

-

It was days- what felt to him like weeks- after the incident before Shizuo had a shift with Haruki again. He opened, and waited anxiously for her closing shift to start. Watching the clock for hours, counting the minutes down. 

As she came in, there was no excited greeting, no comical or theatrical entrance. She gave him a cold "hey" and sought to work. 

Shizuo never thought he would see the day he wanted work to be noisy, but the awkward silences and tense back and forth made the quiet establishment feel suffocating. Shizuo tried overcompensating, overly helpful in any way he could. It only added to her annoyance.

If Shizuo was going to count on his hands the number of times he went to start a job for Haruki only to be met with an uncomfortable stare until he stopped, Shizuo would have needed both hands and every customer in the bar on their busiest night.

"We still should have gone to the police." Haruki said suddenly. It was the first she had spoken to him all afternoon.

Shizuo blinked once, and then just sighed. "I told you, they don't help. I've been dealing with this for years now and it-"

"Well maybe I _ haven't _ been through this. Maybe this isn't something people _ normally _deal with." Haruki snapped.

Guilt was a confusing emotion. While Shizuo was still processing that he felt guilty for almost leaving Izaya to die alone, he hadn't considered Haruki wasn't used to the same lifestyle he's become accustomed to.

"You're...not from Ikebukuro, are you Haru?"

"No. The rumors and legends and all of that, I thought it was make believe, shit people said to attract tourists. But I mean, Yakuza informants, headless bikers, you?" She shook her head. "I didn't really know who _ you _ were until _ after _we hired you. Yomo had to tell me."

He hadn't considered that anyone who lived in Ikebukuro to any extent wasn't just _ used _ to things being this way. And he didn't consider that not everyone would be okay with a life of chaos, danger, and anxiety. It's just what he was used to, is all.

He had plenty of coping skills for anger, but nothing to deal with the gnawing feeling in his chest. 

"I'm…sorry, Haru." Shizuo said. "I'm really sorry."

Haruki stared at him for a long while, unsure of what she wanted to say. In the end, she just scoffed and muttered for him not to forget to clean out the fridge before he clocked out.

Getting stabbed again might have hurt less.

-

_ Bad, bad, bad, bad. _Walking home, Shizuo could only replay the interaction with Haruki over and over, only feeling worse about what he involved her in. 

Getting home offered little for distraction. Carton played absently at a feather toy while Shizuo tried desperately to meditate.

The quiet only welcomed anxious thoughts. With an annoyed sigh, Shizuo opened his eyes. _ Meditating was supposed to help with this, wasn't it? _He wondered. Things felt so murky, he couldn't quite remember what he learned in all those months of program. 

After deciding that one coping skill wouldn’t do the trick, he grabbed the pack of cigarettes from the table, and lit on. Scanning the room, Shizuo then grabbed one of the books he had brought home with him, one that he remembered focusing on learning from mistakes. 

Smoke flowed around him while he flipped through the pages of Buddhist philosophies and theories, a familiar headache returning to him. Tossing the book aside, Shizuo picked at the next book, and did the same. He grabbed the next, and then the next. With an aggravated sigh, he tossed a fifth book aside and flopped backwards onto his mattress. Glaring through the ceiling, Shizuo tried to think of something, _ anything _, that would make this awful feeling go away.

_ ‘When you do wrong by others, apologize. Apologize sincerely. And, more importantly, learn how to do better.’ _

Advice from his program circled its way back into the forefront. But, Shizuo wondered, how was he supposed to make things right? How would he make things better? 

Carton pawed at a mouse toy, plucking it up and tossing it beside Shizuo’s head. 

“You got any ideas?” He asked her, while she pounced onto the toy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not DEAD, HELLO  
And even more so, a huge shout out and thank you to TheCityCesspool for being the incredible beta keeping me alive and afloat and reminding me I should probably finish this. Optimistic plan is this will be completed by end of summer 2020, and I think this is attainable  
Where are you hoping to see this go? Lemme know in the comments. Thank you for sticking with me!


End file.
